


Footsteps and Car Engines

by shiverfawkes



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Broken Bones, Bullying, Complete, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Foster Care, High School, Homelessness, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Scars, Self-Harm, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-04-27 21:56:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 89,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14434911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiverfawkes/pseuds/shiverfawkes
Summary: "It’s nice listening to somebody, rather than footsteps and car engines.”In which Patton befriends a mysterious teenage vagabondAnd things escalate from there(completed 10.11.18 02:54)





	1. Chapter 1

It was a brisk morning in June, the sun was shining but the winds were vicious, pulling leaves of trees prematurely, sending them whirling through the air, around the streets of Lewisburg.

Patton untied his cardigan from his shoulders as he was hit with another gust of biting wind, pulling it on and smiling at the soft warmth it brought. The sense of comfort washing over him, he kept it on his shoulders as a sentiment more than anything, but the days it came in handy were all the sweeter.

His lunch break had just begun, and he was heading to whatever café would serve a coffee, quickly.

Walking, he decided, would be a more pleasant venture than taking his car, besides getting into town from work took a mere five minutes. Aside from the wind, this way he got to enjoy the pleasantries of the open air.

Lewisburg was a small town, Patton had lived there for most of his life, he knew most people, and most people knew him. He was the happy, friendly guy who ran the bakery.

But yet, as he walked down the bustling streets of town, a face he’d never seen before caught his eye.

The figure was across the road, sitting against the side of the library, staring into space. They looked quite young, a teenager presumably, maybe a young-looking twenty-something. But what caught Patton off guard, was that they looked on the verge of tears, a mental breakdown even.

He wanted to help them.

So, without a second thought, he strode across the road, and went to talk with them.

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice that I haven’t seen you around. Would you like to grab a coffee with me? Or whatever drink you’d prefer I guess, my treat.” He greeted them with a smile alongside a cheerful giggle, and they glanced up, their expression a mixture of confusion and… Anger?

They sighed, unmoving. “Look, just because I’m homeless doesn’t mean I want your pity.” Their voice was deep, gravelly and Patton furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.  “And if you’re with the guys that- Never mind, just go away!”

This person was homeless?

Now he looked closer he noticed the backpack by their side, and the worn-down look of what they were wearing.

Their hoodie was thick, a black and grey tartan pattern covering it, the cuffs were fraying. Their black jeans were ripped in several places, strands of fabric only stretching across the gaps.

Patton thought that was just the trend nowadays.

“No no no! I didn’t realise you were, I came ‘cause you looked _upset_ , I thought you could use a friend.” Patton spoke quickly, frightened that he may have offended the other with his offer. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

The stranger’s expression softened slightly, and they stood up, pulling their hoodie over their shoulders more. “I-If that offer is still open, I’d like to take you up on it.”

“Of course! C’mon.” He smiled, gesturing for the other to follow, and the boy picked up his backpack before following behind.

The café was just across the street, so Patton withheld conversation until they were inside, at least that way they could hear, without the wind cutting through their words.

“I’m Patton by the way.” He smiled at the other. “And you are?”

“O-Oh uhm, my name? It’s uh- it’s kinda stupid and I don’t-“

“I’m sure it’s wonderful.” Patton replied. “You don’t have to tell me, but it would be handy.” He giggled a little.

“My name… It’s Virgil.” He stared at the floor, awaiting Patton’s reaction.

The other smiled, a small giggle escaping his lips. “That’s such a cool name! You were so scared about that?”

“You- You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“Not at all.”

Virgil gave him a small nod, and the other could notice a soft tint of red on his cheeks. “I think Patton suits you.” He replied, and Patton somehow managed to smile more.

“So,” He spoke softly as they waited in line. “Cats or dogs?” He asked the other, who glanced at him as though he were an alien before thinking of his reply.

That was usually one of the first questions he asked people, not a completely unusual conversation starter, but enough to catch others off guard. It usually worked out in his favour because there was no right or wrong answer to him.

“Uhm… I like cats I guess- I mean I like both! But cats seem more chill, less stressful, y’know?” An element of panic came into his voice as he tried to backtrack over what he said.

He was quick to second guess himself.

“I like both equally, they’re so cute!” Patton replied, and he couldn’t help but giggle as a soft smile came over Virgil’s features.

It made him happy that the other boy was easing up to him. He didn’t like to make anybody uncomfortable. So, when people started to relax around him it was fulfilling.

“Do you have any pets, Patton?” The other asked, as Patton reached for his wallet, preparing for when they were called to order.

“I have a dog, I’m actually allergic to cats which is sad. She’s a black Labrador puppy.” He glanced at Virgil with a smile. “What would you like?”

“Oh uhm, I don’t want to be a hassle, I-I uh-“ He was beginning to panic as he glanced at the menu frantically trying to find an answer that would seem acceptable, so Patton cut him off.

“You don’t like coffee, do you?”

“Uhm, no not really…”

“Hot chocolate alright? They do a nice one here.”            

Virgil let out a sigh of relief, shooting Patton a grateful smile. “Yeah that’d be great. Thank you.”

Patton smiled at him. “You’re welcome, can you go find a table? I’ll be there in a second.” He replied. It was warmer in the café, so he took off his cardigan, tying it around his shoulders once again.

Virgil gave him an odd look, gesturing to what the other had just done.

“Don’t question it, just go sit!” He whisper-shouted, a grin overtaking his features, as the other went in search of a table.

Much to Patton’s delight, Virgil had chosen a table by a window. He liked looking out at all the old buildings, watching as people, some strangers, some friends walked along, going about their lives as he did his. It was nice. So, he set down the tray and took a seat opposite the other.

“Your hot chocolate, my good sir.” He grinned at Virgil, passing the mug over before taking his own coffee and sipping it slowly.

Virgil let it sit on the table, cupping the mug with both his hands, he was looking at it like he’d never seen a hot chocolate before. “You asked for marshmallows? That probably cost a lot, I didn’t- you shouldn’t- you didn’t have to-“ He stumbled over his words, until Patton cut him off from what he was saying, knowing he’d only stress himself out further

“You’re right, I didn’t have to, I _wanted_ to.” Patton retorted and gestured for Virgil to drink it.

Virgil stared at the table, as he felt his eyes beginning to water slightly, in an attempt to hide his face with his bangs. “That… That’s the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me.” His voice was soft. “Thank you.”

“Aw, no problem kiddo!” Patton replied. “Actually, speaking of which, how old are you?” 

“Sixteen. It was my birthday a week ago I think.” Patton felt his heart shatter in his chest, not only at the fact that this boy spent his birthday out on the street, not just because he was so young, but because at this point he didn’t have the means to know when his own birthday was. “Why, how old are you?”

“Oh, I’m twenty-eight.” He smiled up at the boy, trying to discard his previous thoughts. “I must seem so old compared to you.” He laughed.

Virgil didn’t respond, he was staring at the table, biting his lip, his eyes dark in concentration. Patton noticed his hand jittering, tapping out a light rhythm against the table.

“You okay, kiddo?” Patton asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

“You’re the first person who hasn’t asked me about being homeless.” Virgil spoke quietly, his voice had a stern edge to it. “Why are you different?”

“It shouldn’t matter where you live, where you originated or how wealthy you are, your thoughts and actions are what should dictate your value as a person, because nobody can really choose a bad situation. A friend of mine taught me that.” Patton spoke, watching as the younger boy fidgeted with the loose strands on his hoodie sleeves.

He smiled a little, lifting his head to make eye contact with Patton for a brief moment. “Your friend knows their stuff.”

“I would like to hope so, he’s teaching the next generation.” Patton replied, with a giggle.

“Oh, what does he teach?” Virgil asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Pretty much everything, he’s one of those gifted people who skipped ahead, y’know?” The older man spoke, still looking out the window. “He mainly teaches history though; history and science are his favourites. I keep telling him he could do more than just high-school level teaching, but he’s way to modest for his own good.”

“He sounds cool. I loved history.” Virgil spoke softly, Patton gave him a glance, a sad smile o his features.

“Do you miss school?” Patton asked, he hated to assume but from the way Virgil spoke, he doubted that the other went to school anymore.

“A little bit, it got me out of the house. It stressed me out from time to time, but everybody gets that.” He spoke almost like he was talking about an old friend. “What’d you do in school?” He asked, trying to shift the subject slightly.

“Hospitality and Home Ec’ was what I focused on mainly, and I did like math a lot.” Patton smiled, as Virgil crunched up his face.

“Ew, math.”

“Not a fan?”

“Not at all.”

“You must have had a bad teacher then. A good teacher makes a student _want_ to learn, they should make lessons exciting, not a chore.” Patton replied with a smile.

Virgil smirked. “Is your _friend_ , a good teacher?”

“Yeah, sure! He loves his job, heck, he teaches me more than I ever learnt in school!” Patton laughed, finishing his coffee. “He’s truly amazing.”

“Uh huh?” Virgil was grinning behind his mug, watching as Patton spoke about this man.

Patton’s phone buzzed, and he frowned slightly as he read the notification. “Yeah. Hey, I’m really sorry, but I have to go back to work.” The older man felt his heart hit the floor as a disheartened look came over Virgil’s face. “I really loved talking with you Virgil.” He smiled at the other as they stood up.

“Now, listen, I don’t mean to be patronising, I know you can handle yourself, but here, just in case.” Patton pressed twenty bucks into the younger boy’s palm. “It might come in handy.” His voice was quiet, and he couldn’t help it when his eyes began to well up with tears.

“I-I-… Thanks Patton.”

“I’ll see you around Virgil.” He offered the other a watery smile, before leaving the café.

 

 

* * *

 

A week went by, the usual grind, trying to come up with new recipes, and brainstorming cute ideas for the kids in town.

Patton finally had the time to go out for his lunch break, he was sprinting at this point, waving at those who waved at him, and greeting people as he ran past. His cardigan was flapping behind him in the light breeze, his shoes hitting the sidewalk with a satisfying tap for every step he took.

It was warm. Warm enough to prevent goose bumps from crawling up your arms, but not warm enough to leave you sweltering, even in a tank top and shorts.

Patton loved this type of weather, picnic weather, he called it. He and Logan sometimes went on walks with the dog, the sun shining down, the breeze rustling the trees, the birds chirping and everything at ease. All in this weather.

He smiled, running along, the cars and people going by as well.

Once again, at the side of the library, sat Virgil, and Patton couldn’t help but grin as the other gave him a smile and a little wave as he strode over.

“Long time no see, Virgil!” He spoke, a giggle ever-present in his tone. “I have an hour, do you wanna go grab a coffee?”

“It hasn’t been long, Patton.” Virgil replied, glancing up at Patton, his smile poorly hidden under his playful glare. “I mean, I already cost you enough, you don’t have to-“

“Remember what I said last time about the difference between _have_ and _want_?”  Patton offered his hand out to the other. “The same way you don’t _have_ to come with me.” He was nervous about pressuring the other, retracting his hand slightly, but before he could the other grasped it, pushing himself up, using Patton’s hand as extra leverage.

“But I want to.” He gave Patton a reassuring smile, letting go and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Patton grinned at him before, explaining to him that they were just heading over to the same café.

Virgil let out a soft sigh of relief, he hoped Patton wouldn’t hear, because trying to learn the layout and people at a new place would have melted his head.

He was even more grateful as the same ordeal occurred, Virgil going to grab a seat and Patton grabbing the order.

The tray was set down on the table just the same but the change came when Patton handed the younger boy a bottle of cola. “I figured it would be too hot for hot chocolate y’know?” The other nodded, taking it with an appreciative nod.

“Yet you still got coffee?” It sounded more like a question than a statement and Patton could only resist a laugh.

“It keeps me cool.” He replied incredulously, taking a sip.

Virgil giggled, before catching himself. “You are everything but.”

“Yeah, I’m _ice cold_.” He grinned as Virgil groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “You remind me of a friend I have.”

“The teacher?” Virgil asked, taking his jacket off, noticing that Patton was wearing the same outfit he’d had the last time, almost like a cartoon. He was one to talk but he didn’t really have a choice in that regard.

Patton nodded. “Yep! He hates the dad jokes, word-play especially. Maybe I should use them as a _pun_ ishment from time to time.” He grinned.

“You are terrible.” The younger boy placed his head in his hands.

“Aw Virge, don’t shut me out, that’d be _pun_ bearable.” Patton replied, taking joy the hidden smile Virgil had behind his scowl at him.

“Virge?”

“Like a nickname, I won’t call you it if you don’t want me to.” He replied, glancing out the window, studying the town once more.

“N-No, I like it! It was just unexpected I guess.”

“Always expect the unexpected.” Patton replied, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly. “Boy scouts motto.”

“No, it’s not.” Virgil smirked slightly before glancing out the window, he’d picked the same location as before, to avoid the stress of Patton being unable to find him. “Plus, if I expect the unexpected then I can’t expect the expected. Which would in turn, make it the unexpected.” He smirked a little.

Patton raised an eyebrow, at what was said and the fact that it _was_ said, taking another sip of his coffee. “Man, Logan would adore you.”

“Logan? Adoration?” The younger boy gave him a curious look.

“The teacher. And maybe not _adoration_ , but he’d enjoy talking with you.” Patton replied, he noticed how Virgil’s shoulders weren’t repeatedly rising and falling. How he wasn’t tapping his fingers this time. How he was speaking with longer sentences.

He was comfortable.

“Alright then, so what do you do?” Virgil asked. “You know that I sit by the library, and I now know _Logan_ teaches, but what’s your deal?”

“I work at the bakery. Y’know, cakes, bread, biscuits, you name it I make it.” The older man replied. “You should come by sometime, then I could get you more than a drink.”

“Is that why you don’t get food here? Because you think yours is better?” Virgil was struggling to hide a giggle at this point.

“Incorrect, I _know_ mine is better.”

“Glad to know imposter syndrome hasn’t bitten you by the hand yet.” Virgil laughed, covering his mouth with his hand the moment he realised, and Patton furrowed his eyebrows, deciding not to say anything.

He’d learned from experience, that repetition is key for certainty.

“What can I say? I’m one of a kind, nobody can _impersonate_ me.” Patton gave him a sly smile before breaking into giggles at his own wordplay.

“I got that joke and I'm not happy about it.” Virgil muttered, taking another sip, resting his head on his hand, glancing through his bangs at the older man.

Patton smiled, leaning back in his chair slightly. “So, how has the past week been?”

“Alright. I managed to keep all my stuff together. Even got a chance to wash, never underestimate public pool showers.” Virgil spoke, his voice still quiet but Patton caught every word. “How was yours?”

“It’s been good, had to take Carbon to the vet, she’s all clear. The bakery has been doing pretty well, we’re trying out a new muffin and it seems to be a hit, Logan didn’t think it would work, but I altered his idea a bit and- Oh, sorry, I’ll stop rambling.” Patton giggled sheepishly, feeling his cheeks go up in flames, he always had a tendency to ramble.

Virgil lifted his head of his hand, his eyebrows raised as he stared at the older man. “Why are you apologising?”

“I have a habit of talking for too long. Sorry if I was boring you.” The polo-clad man ran a hand through his hair.

“You weren’t, I don’t have many conversations with people. It’s nice listening to somebody, rather than footsteps and car engines.” He placed a hand at his neck, just below his chin, turning his head to stare out the window once more.

Patton furrowed his eyebrows, taking a sip of his drink. “I suppose it must be irritating.”

“At times yeah, sometimes its nice though. I’ll go for walks at night, and then its just me, and the occasional hum of a car and it’s quiet. Lonely, but quiet.” A soft smile overcame Virgil’s features.

“Solitude is the house of peace.”

“Alright wise guy.” The younger boy laughed.

Patton checked his watch and looked away with a smile. Time always seemed to pass so quickly, and he hated it. He wished that they could just sit here forever, that they could keep talking, that he could keep Virgil laughing. But he knew that wasn’t, as much as he wished it was, how it worked.

 So reluctantly, he tightened the knot of his cardigan, and stood up.

“I don’t want to have to go. But I have to go.” He offered a smile of sympathy to the other, who returned it with a nod.

“You can’t waste all your time keeping me company, Patton.” The younger boy replied, pulling his hoodie back on.

“Sadly, want and can’t, are not interchangeable.” Patton spoke, adjusting Virgil’s hoodie, evening out the bottom by the pockets. They headed out of the building, Patton telling the other repeatedly that he’d come again as soon as possible, and Virgil dismissing his offer bashfully, trying to tell him it wasn’t necessary.

Even though he wanted just as badly as anyone, to see the older man again.

As they parted ways Patton could here Virgil calling his name, softly in the distance. But he kept walking, a genuine smile on his face now.

He must have found the twenty that Patton had slipped into his pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil groaned, pushing himself off the ground. The fourteen-year-old sat up with a start, staring around. It was still slightly dark outside, and he let out a sigh of relief, clutching his backpack in his hands.

He stood up softly, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his hoodie and shouldering his backpack. Rubbing his eyes, he set out on his way, footsteps echoing down the desolate streets. Streetlights burned a soft amber as the sky was lit up in soft pinks and blues, the sun beginning to rise.

Getting up early was Virgil’s thing, he found it best to sleep before the hoods came out. Learning from experience of course.

He wasn’t sure where exactly his destination was, but he knew the ins and outs of this town like he’d lived there a lifetime, even though it had barely been a month. Living on the streets was scary, and unexpectedly boring. Except for when Patton showed up he supposed.

Patton gave him hope. And as much as he felt guilty for the older man’s perpetual visits, today would be the fifth, he hoped they wouldn’t stop.

Talking to people usually made his knees quake, his hands shake and his heart beat faster than a car motor, but after enough time he could just melt into a conversation with Patton like it was the most natural thing in the world. Talking to the older man was the highlight of his week, he always liked to listen to what he had to say, all about his best friend and the bakery, and his stupid jokes and puns could never fail to bring a smile, no matter how reluctant, to Virgil’s face.

The air was cold as the teenager strolled along. The soft breeze tingling the tips of his fingers as he gripped the straps of his backpack.

He supposed summer was probably the best time to be homeless.

Winter would probably bring a lot of struggle, but maybe he’d be prepared by then. If Patton hadn’t gotten sick of him by then, then he’d have something to strive for. Seeing as his future at this point didn’t exist.

He shook his head, shuddering a little. He promised himself he wouldn’t think like that anymore.

The houses on the streets seemed so perfect and picturesque. Virgil could only imagine the families that lived there, the perfect couple and their precious son and daughter. A sports star and a singer. Stick straight and without a flaw. Just the way their parents wished for them.

A groan got caught in Virgil’s throat as he tried to drown out the thoughts.

He didn’t miss his family, but they had been kind enough to give him a CD player. He wished he hand it now. Music was the greatest escape he had. _Now_ all he had were long walks and out of tune, incorrect lyrics with blurry rhythm.

A soft hum escaped his lips, the tune only familiar to him now, the title and lyrics having escaped his mind.

He took a breath as the sky began to lighten, holding the breath before breathing it out, slowly.

He was content.

After enough walking around, watching the sunrise over the rooftops, and getting lost in his head, he found himself back at the library. It was open now, so he slipped inside, allowing the bright lights and cheery atmosphere fill his chest.

He walked over to one of the shelves, sliding out a book, familiar to his hands, he was nearly finished with it.

It was a psychology study. By Logan Sanders. It was interesting, easier to understand but sophisticated enough for him to feel educated. He missed learning.

He’d been coming to the library to read every day for the last week. Patton enjoyed talking about this teacher he was friends with. And it only just kicked in how much Virgil missed being educated. So, he’d been attempting to home-school himself.

Well, home-schooling without a home is just schooling, he supposed.

Time passed as his eyes flicked over the words, he tried to take in as much as he could without writing anything down. All his notebooks were inn his old town, he hadn’t taken much when he left, so all he had was his head.

He left the library once he’d finished, not wanting to be perceived as loitering, gripping his bag tightly as he walked through the automatic doors, into the warm summer air.

Sure enough, just as the sun moved westward from the middle of the sky, footsteps of running came toward him, and he glanced up to see his best, and only, friend running toward him. A smile took over his face and he stood up.

“Hey Virge! I thought, if you wanted we could head back to the bakery today, if you want I mean.” Patton spoke, excitement present in his voice.

Virgil would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about the new location with new strangers and new options, but he figured that dealing with that wouldn’t be so bad if Patton was there. Besides if he didn’t say yes, the older man might be upset, and he couldn’t risk that.

“Yeah that sounds nice.” He spoke softly, grabbing his bag. He had his hoodie tied around his waist, as the sun scorched the tarmac he’d taken it off. It wasn’t until he caught Patton staring that he realised the repercussions. Subconsciously he rubbed his hand over the raised lines that scattered his arms.

Patton looked away, a guilty expression on his face, before continuing to talk about whatever dog he’d seen on the way there.

Virgil didn’t blame him really. He understood why he was staring, they weren’t a pretty sight to behold. But he’d rather go through the day self-conscious rather than have heatstroke trying to wear his hoodie.

The town looked a lot different in broad daylight.

The people looked a lot different too.

He never really saw much from his spot outside the library. He saw shadows and heard voices, but he was never one for looking up to see who owned them. The people in this town, the night people at least, had made it clear that his presence here was not welcomed.

They messed with his stuff, taking and breaking it, the only things he owned now were his backpack and his hoodie.

Some people even made the effort to smile and wave as they walked. Though, he supposed those were probably meant for Patton. He seemed to capture everyone’s affection, even the coldest of hearted. His happiness seemed almost contagious, the people he waved at, their faces lightened with a smile as they returned the gesture.

He was Virgil’s only friend.

He supposed that was fitting.

“So,” Patton spoke as he sat Virgil at a table, with two ice teas and a sandwich on a tray between them. “How has your week been?” He asked, leaning back in the chair.

The bakery was quaint, it was cosy and also served as a café. The door was open, and the soft summer breeze flowed throughout the room. It had a goofy name, a play on words, and Virgil understood why Patton worked there.

“The Rolling Scones. Nice name.” Virgil smirked, as Patton almost beamed with pride. “My week has been fine, I’ve been spending a lot of time in the library. And also, a lot of time thinking.”

He had been. His friendship with the older man had made his situation extremely apparent. And to the other, his entire life was without context, and he deserved to know the story that had led to this conclusion.

Patton _had_ become a part of it after all.

“Thinking? What’s up?” Patton asked, resting his head on his hands. He was looking at Virgil intently. And Virgil noticed over time he’d become less self-conscious about it. It was a way of Patton showing he was listening.

“You know how, when we first started talking, I was confused that you didn’t ask many questions?” he broke eye contact, he was playing with his fingers, missing the cuffs of his hoodie to grab. 

Patton looked confused. “I asked a _lot_ of questions.”

“Well, you didn’t ask the common ones…” Virgil replied, nodding slightly, hoping Patton would say it for him in a way.

“About your homelessness, I remember now. Yes, I know.” The older man nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “What about it?”

“Well, I uh… I think you ought to know.” He bit his lip. “I think you should know how- or _why_ it happened.”

Patton looked stunned, confused almost, and worried. “Kiddo, you don’t have to-“

“I _want_ to, Patton. You’re a part of this now, leaving you clueless isn’t fair.” Virgil made his voice stern, almost controlling, he didn’t speak in that tone often.

The older man furrowed his brow but nodded. “I won’t lie, I have wondered, but it isn’t my place to ask. However, if you want to tell me, I’m more than open to listening.”

“Okay…” The younger boy took a breath, clenching his hands into fists before he began to speak. He was going to have to talk a lot. He was going to have to share a lot. Did he think it through enough?

This is why opening up to people was a bad idea.

“I was born into a family that didn’t care much for me.” Okay, he’d started now, there was no turning back. “I was then fostered into a family who were the same, just more careful about it. They only kept me for the money they got, they had five, all from a similar background. But I wasn’t the most…” He bit his lip, staring at the table, terrified of how Patton was reacting. “ _Ideal_ kid. So, as soon as they could, they kicked me out. I was sixteen, I hadn’t even done my GCSE’s, I hadn’t done anything of use. So, here I am. A homeless boy from a state over, w-with no future… A-And no hope…” He was crying now.

Speaking to people wasn’t his forte, opening up to people even less so.

“Oh kiddo…” Patton grabbed one of his hands, and Virgil looked up, tears falling down his face slowly. “You’re gonna be okay. Things are gonna get better. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after.  But they will. I promise.” The older man’s eyes glistened, he was smiling.

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next week passed quicker than Virgil thought it would. He’d made it through alright, no hostility had occurred, and he had been productive with his time. The librarians had stopped giving him dirty looks at least.

He’d finished the psychology book, he’d moved on to history, another by Logan Sanders, surrounding the troubles and settlements in Ireland.

The weather was less warm that day, cold breezes blew softly, and rain clouds hung overhead. Virgil swallowed thickly when he stepped outside, looking up at the sky. He’d experienced a rainstorm once, the water pelting down on him in the middle of the night was something he’d rather not remember. He’d been terrified, and he couldn’t even duck into the library for shelter.

He could have gotten hypothermia, had he not taken his hoodie off. He’d been hesitant about removing his shirt but in the end, a life-threatening health condition very much cancelled out body confidence issues.

As demoralising as it may have been, drying his shirt and hoodie with the hand dryer in a public bathroom, was possibly one of his most brilliant ideas yet.

If he’d learned anything from his time on the streets, it was how to fend for himself. He’d certainly become more daring and resourceful.

At least he wasn’t a stuck up, demanding brat.

Sitting against the library wall, he hunched his shoulders somehow trying to curl into his hoodie more, even though it’d been zipped up as far as it could go, and he had his hood up.

It was summer. Weather like this was against the rules.

It seemed that mother nature wasn’t one for following previous form. Even though autumn was miles away, she decided to give a taste of it early. He wasn’t appreciative of that.

“Hey Virgil, you coming?” A familiar voice called, and he smiled standing up before glancing at Patton, who was wearing the cardigan he usually had around his shoulders, like he had been on the first day they met.

Virgil walked beside him, listening intently as he rambled about the new bread recipe they were trying, and some vegan options he’d been brainstorming.

“I never realised how hard it would be to think of recipes that don’t have eggs or milk, or anything I'm used to in baking. It kinda makes you feel awful when you think about it y’know. But I'm hoping more people will come to the shop if the recipes go well.” He certainly used his hands a lot when he spoke, it was a change in comparison to the younger boy, who’s hands resided in whatever pockets he had access to, usually his own.   

“You really love to include people huh?” Virgil replied, listening to all the problems Patton was complaining about, but still managed to laugh even though they were mistakes.

Patton smiled, nudging the other in the ribs lightly. “Of course! Nobody deserves to be left out. And if you argue about serial killers, I will become one. Logan already tested that point.” He giggled.

“Where’s the body?” Virgil replied smiling softly as they entered the bakery. It was everybody’s lunch break, so they were the only two in the shop.

The older man giggled, giving Virgil a knowing look, he was good at those. “That would be _telling_.” He smiled. “You wanna try the strawberry brownies? They’re new, but they’re good I promise.” He was behind the counter, fumbling with the kettle. The drinks he made depended on the weather, as odd as that sounds.

Virgil tugged at his hoodie nervously, he was still uneasy about making choices, because he didn’t want to seem demanding. He was _not_ about to be a choosing beggar, he liked Patton’s company more than anything. It was unnerving to think that Patton mightn’t realise that.

“You don’t have to give me stuff every week. Hanging out with you is enough.” He spoke poignantly, scuffing his foot on the tiled floor.

Patton’s smile softened, and he glanced back at Virgil from behind the counter. “Have and want, kiddo, have and want.”

Virgil was silent. He offered a small smile. He was still uncertain. Was he taking advantage of Patton’s niceness? He certainly knew that feeling, to inflict that on somebody else… He was a terrible person.

“You’re thinking quite loudly over there, bud. Look, Virge, you’re my friend, this is what friends do.”

The younger boy bit his lip, clenching the cuffs of his hoodie in his fists out of anxiety. He could feel his heart racing, he usually didn’t snap back but couldn’t Patton understand that he’d wronged him? He was trying to make things right. “But I can’t give you anything back, a friendship is supposed to be equal.”

“And we are, like you said, I love to include people. You looked upset that day when I saw you, and I think trying to make you happy was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. You gave me your trust. That’s more than enough to make us equal.” Patton wasn’t often serious. But his expression was stern. Somehow even when he wasn’t being immature, he wasn’t stone cold and stoic like many adults were. His voice was still filled with warmth.

“You… You’re a good guy Patton.”

“Now, do you want the brownies or not because, it would be un-berry-ble to have to eat them by myself.” And there was giggly goofy Patton once again.

“Keep up the puns and I’ll leave.” Virgil replied, his threat was hollow, and he sat down on the chair despite his words.

Patton laughed, setting down the tray, a plate of brownies, a coffee and a hot chocolate. “ _Or_ you’ll _guava_ bone to pick with me.”

“They’re strawberry brownies where does guava have any place?” The younger boy protested, taking a sip, flinching back as he burned his tongue on the hot drink.

“I suppose that one wasn’t _ripe_ for the picking.”

“It certainly didn’t fit in the punnet.” Virgil replied, glancing up at Patton through his bangs, only to see the older man practically squealing.

“That was a fruit-pun and a pun-pun I'm so proud!” He cried, he was clapping like a small child.

Virgil tried to hold in a laugh, glancing up at the older man with a raised eyebrow and a smirk “How are you even an adult?”

“Hey! I may be a grown-up but that doesn’t mean I'm grown up.”  

“Deep.”

They laughed for a little, babbling about this and that, Virgil had to admit, despite his hesitance, the brownies were quite good.

 “Hey, so you really opened up to me the other day. I thought I could do the same. Granted my story isn’t as interesting as yours, but hey, we can’t all be interesting.” He smiled taking a sip of his own drink, blowing on it first so he didn’t hurt himself.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little. Patton was going to return the favour he supposed that was nice of him. So, he smiled and nodded, indicating that Patton go on.

“Well, I grew up in a time long before this,” He giggled pushing up his glasses. “My family was the ‘perfect’ family, a mom, dad, and two kids; brother and sister. Living in a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. Me and her were inseparable growing up, we’re a lot more distant now.” A somewhat sad sigh left his lips, and Virgil furrowed his brow. “I went through school, and dropped out of college, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Virgil nodded, smiling softly. “What about Logan? Surely there’s a story behind him?”

“We met when I moved here. And after a while we became best friends. He’s a great guy, ethereal almost.” Patton giggled, taking a sip of his drink.

Virgil decided not to point out the red tint forming on Patton’s cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Patton’s palms were sweaty, he was practically shaking with excitement and nervousness. He let out a soft almost panicked giggle as he ran, his heart racing in his chest and not just from the running.

 He’d been thinking for the past four months. Deliberating every scenario and trying for once to think with his brain and not just his heart. And finally, he had a conclusion.

It was unlike him to deliberate something for this long. He often went into things head on and even if they took a turn for the worst he always came out with a smile. This time however, his decision would impact the life of a dear friend. So, he had to be diligent in his choice.

It was his lunch break and he was practically sprinting to the library to meet the teenager he’d formed a friendship with over the past months. A teenager whom he’d watched grow in the past four months. The younger boy had begun to grow stubble, and Patton couldn’t help but giggle at him for it, likewise with every voice crack that occurred. He’d also matured personality wise, at least around the older man; he wasn’t so afraid of speaking for too long or asking too much anymore.

He was still antsy around new people, but that was to be expected.

It was nice.

Patton was proud.

Virgil greeted him with a smile and a soft wave, before walking by his side back to the shop. He always tended to walk on the left side of him, for a reason Patton didn’t particularly know. But he didn’t mind.

The other workers at the bakery had come to expect the younger boy’s presence on a Wednesday, he’d become quite familiar with them by now, able to poke fun and joke around.

He and Talyn had a similar taste in fashion, they offered him one of their old jackets if he needed it at any time. But he always denied their offers, afraid of being too needy. Even so, the two were still able to have nice conversations. Well, at least until Talyn had to go to the university, to see their friend.

It made Patton smile that they got along.

“Anything new happening?” Virgil asked, his hands shoved in his pockets as they walked along the sidewalk.

“Uhm, not recipe wise, no.” Patton replied, barely able to contain his grin. “But I do have something new to talk to you about once we get inside.” He gave a knowing smile to the younger boy who responded with a confused glance.

“You can’t just say that! That’s literally the same as saying ‘I have a secret’ and not telling the secret.” Virgil deadpanned, furrowing his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, the bakery isn’t far, and you know that.” Patton replied, and Virgil rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little. “How did you handle the rain last night? I was worried.”

That was understatement of the century.

He’d nearly taken a full-blown panic attack when the winds began to howl, and the water pelted down so hard he could hear it through the roof. To the point where he was fully prepared to go out and look for him, but Logan prevented him from doing anything of the sort. It was a “preposterous” and “dangerous” idea.

Logan was one of the only people he listened to. Which is why, not even the teacher knew his secret, because he was so afraid of being denied that he just stuck with his gut instinct.

“I was fine, I’ve learned all the good spots where the rain can’t get.” He stuck his tongue out at the older man who only rolled his eyes, holding the door open for Virgil, who sat at their usual table. “So, what’s this new-fangled secret you couldn’t tell me about?” He asked, scratching the side of his face. He’d been complaining that facial hair was itchy.

“Well, uh. I'm gonna need you to just listen, like no interruptions.” He could feel his face heating up, and for once _he_ was the one avoiding eye contact. “I… Um, I’ve been thinking.” Virgil had to restrain himself from giving a snarky comment in response.

Patton swallowed thickly. “I’ve known you for four months now. It hasn’t felt that long seeing as I only see you once a week, but it has been. Every day that I talk to you I learn more about you and vice versa, and at this point you’re one of my closest friends. And every day that I _don’t_ talk to you, I'm worried out of my mind that something bad will happen. You’ve been hurt before, and it hurts me to think that any day, _out_ _there_ , you’ll get hurt again.” He let out a breath, clasping his hands together.  

“What I'm saying, and don’t feel like you’re obligated to agree, but what I'm saying is; I want to foster you.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. He stared at the older man trying to work out whether or not this was a joke. “You _what?_ ” He asked, staring at Patton, who had lifted his head to try and gauge the younger boy’s reaction.

“I-I want to foster you.” The older man repeated.

Virgil was pale, he was struggling to breathe as is brain tried to process what he was being told. “But that’s such a big decision, can you even afford another person? I can’t-“

“You don’t have to say yes!” Patton reminded him, if a little bitterly. “It’s _just_ an offer, I completely understand if you don’t want to. But uhm, you’ve kinda become the son I’ve always wanted and could never have.”

“You can, you’re still young, you have plenty of ti- “

“I'm gay, Virgil!” Patton snapped, immediately regretting shouting at the younger boy. This meant that Virgil was saying no, and he couldn’t help but feel hurt. “So, no, I can’t.”

There was a moment of silence. A moment of heart breaking, earth shattering silence. Before Virgil glanced up, looking at the older man through his fringe, with his smug shit-eating smirk that Patton had come to like.

“Yeah, you can.”

“You’re serious?” Patton’s eyes were wide, he was holding back tears. He took off his glasses as Virgil nodded and placed his face in his hands.

Virgil was unsure of what was happening, Patton was laughing but also crying, and he’d taken his glasses off. He’d never done that before. He wracked his brain to think of what he should do, what the man in front of him would do in the same situation.

He bit his lip. “Do you need a hug?” His voice was shaky. Did he upset Patton? Patton had made the offer, why would he be upset? Did he give the wrong answer?

“That… That would be wonderful.” Patton laughed, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of the cardigan wrapped around his shoulders, placing his glasses over glistening eyes.

Virgil stood up shakily. He couldn’t remember if he’d _ever_ hugged someone before. He’d seen people in the streets, it looked nice, but stressful.

But before he could register, the older man had his arms around him. He was slightly shorter than Patton, so he was on his toes, his chin resting on the glasses-clad man’s shoulder. It was warm, he hadn’t expected that, but he supposed he should have. He’d never felt anything like this before.

He blinked. Tears were spilling down _his_ face now, as he gripped the material of Patton’s shirt in his fists.

This felt like home.

 

**___________________________________________________________**

 

Patton watched fondly, as Virgil sat in his usual spot.

His head was tilted back against the red brick of the library, he had his eyes closed, and his hood down. He was taking deep breathes and repeatedly clenching and unclenching his hands. He was nervous, Patton recognised the signs.

It hadn’t been a week since their last conversation, the one that consisted of tears of joy and the first hug Virgil had ever given, but rather a day this time. Patton hadn’t slept a wink, buzzed up on coffee, and the caffeine high was hitting him.

They’d agreed that Virgil would spend a week at Patton’s. If he decided he wanted to stay, Patton would do the paperwork and foster him for a period of six months, potentially more depending on how things went.

But him being the loyal kid he was, he wanted to spend one more night on the streets, if it may be his last.

Patton presumed the position he was in now, was just to let him take it all in, potentially his last moments of homelessness.

Truthfully what they were about to do could be qualified as illegal, kidnapping maybe. But Patton assumed that seeing as how they’d put him on the streets, whatever “parents” Virgil had, weren’t looking to get him back anytime soon.

He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up his nose, before taking in a breath. “Hey, Virge, you comin’?” He called, walking slowly toward the other.

The younger boy lowered his head, inhaling sharply before pushing himself up, walking over toward the man, taking his usual place at the left-hand side. His eyes were gleaming with excitement but for some reason he didn’t make eye contact.

“You’re nervous.”

“Yeah, no duh.” Virgil laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets, daring to glance at Patton, who offered him a smile of reassurance. “You couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

“About an hour, that’s being generous. Coffee works wonders.” Patton smiled adjusting his glasses, he didn’t live far from the bakery, and the bakery wasn’t far from the library. He drove when lazy or late. Today he was neither and he’d taken the day off.

But they were walking anyway.

“Too bad it tastes like shit.” Virgil replied.

Patton sighed, still smiling, he was giddy almost that this was finally happening. “Language.”

“English.” The younger boy was quick to reply.

“How original.” Patton giggled, nudging him slightly. “You excited?”

“More than anything. I haven’t been in a house for almost half a year.”

“Well, don’t be disappointed, it isn’t much.”  He replied, as they passed the bakery, he shot a wave in through the window, to Talyn who was dealing with a customer. “I took some time of not-sleep to clean up so it’s tidier than usual.”

“You didn’t have to go out of your wa-“

“It wasn’t a bother. I can’t wait for you to see your room! I haven’t done anything too fancy, don’t worry but I had to make it a bit more _you_ if you’re going to be staying, even if just the week.” He gave Virgil a knowing look, tightening the knot he’d tied his cardigan in.

“My room? I was just gonna sleep on the couch or the floor or-“

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve known me for months at this point.” Patton rolled his eyes, patting Virgil on the shoulder, light enough to not startle him.

Virgil shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I guess that scenario didn’t seem likely considering it’s you I'm with.”

“God, I can’t wait for you to meet Logan. You’ll get along like a house on fire.” Patton grinned. As they turned the corner onto a street, the houses had gardens, and onlooked a road. “Well here we are. Number 4, Baker street. Feel free to inspect.” He announced with a smile, as he opened the gate. His keys jingled as he took them from his pocket, his hands were shaking so much he could barely put it in the lock.

Opening the door, Virgil’s eyes were wide.

“Its beautiful…” He whispered, staring at the art on the walls, and the bookshelves and the picture frames. The granite kitchen tops and even the kitchen itself. There was even a television in the living room he’d never had one, only seen them in cafes and restaurants.

The walls were a soft grey, not quite Virgil’s style but it fit Patton quite well, it matched his cardigan. Blue appeared to be the thing. Soft, sharp, grey, bright. Blue was prominent.

Did Patton like the sea? Maybe.

Patton couldn’t help but smile fondly as he watched this boy walk around his house, inspecting each element, each ornament, like he’d never seen one before.

He sat down on the couch, hunching his knees to his chest, and then nodded to himself, before practically launching himself up again, and walking around the kitchen. The downstairs was very open plan, he liked that.

Patton knew he would. No tight spaces, an anxious boy like Virgil wouldn’t like segregated living areas. Not one bit.

“There’s an upstairs too.” He said, as the younger boy walked around, so quietly, it seemed like he was in a museum, trying not to disturb anything, even though he’d picked up nearly every decoration to look at it, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly as he looked at each one.

“An upstairs?” He asked, an eyebrow quirked up, as he turned to look at the older man. The home had stairs but his bedroom there was on the bottom. But his old family didn’t even give him a room, he slept on the living room floor with everybody else. He hated that, too many people, too close to him.

Patton grinned. “Yeah, c’mon kiddo.”

Virgil tripped on the way up, he wasn’t used to stairs, Patton had a giggle before showing him around the upstairs. His house was standard. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, two stories, and an attic.

“So, this is my room, just across the hall from yours, if you need me I'm there.” He gestured to the room with the pale cyan coloured door. “This is your room, just across the hall from mine.” Virgil’s door was painted a pale lilac, and the younger boy couldn’t help but smile. “And this is the study, forward slash, spare bedroom. Logan uses it mostly but feel free to.” Patton was beaming, he hadn’t had anybody but Logan round in months, maybe a year, who knows? It felt nice to have someone else.

“Its wonderful.” Virgil was at a loss for words, he was gripping the straps of his backpack with all his might, his knuckles white around them. He was shaking a little, from anxiety or excitement he couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

The older man pretended not to notice and offered him a smile. “Go unpack, I’ll be downstairs.” Patton spoke, patting him on the back, before slipping off down the steps. He knew Virgil didn’t have anything _to_ unpack, but he wanted the younger boy to see his room.

“What a day.” Virgil murmured, wrapping his fingers round the cool metal of his door handle. “What a lovely day.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Virgil woke up with a start, his heart was pounding his chest and his ears were ringing harder in his head than a clocktower bell. He sat up, breathing hard.

Then he paused.

The touch was different. His hands found linen, not stone, there was no biting wind and no orange street lights cascading amber light onto his face. No footsteps to keep him on edge and no car engines humming to ease his anxiety.

Just the sound of his own breathing. Then he realised were he was.

He was safe. He was with Patton. He was in a house, a home even.

He looked over to the bedside table, the clock read in red glowing numbers, 06:43, he sighed, flopping back down into his bed. He liked the way that sounded.

“My bed.” Virgil whispered out loud, a smile present on his lips. He immediately cursed himself for getting his hopes up. In the end, Patton wouldn’t want him, Patton would figure out all that’s wrong with him. Then it would be over.

He sat up quickly, throwing his legs over the side of his bed. It was a twin sized mattress, with black bedsheets. It was more comfortable than anything he could remember laying on. His back was certainly appreciative of it.

He was wearing yesterdays clothes, and last weeks clothes, and last months clothes.

Sighing he shook his head, standing up and walking downstairs. The TV was playing something, but the sound was off.

Patton was laying on the sofa, he was in a hoodie, and he had a pair of knitting needles in his hands, what appeared to be the beginnings of a striped scarf in his lap. Virgil smiled softly, he didn’t take Patton as one to knit but he seemed to be good at it. Slowly, he removed Patton’s glasses from his face, then he carefully took the needles from the older man, setting the wool on the coffee table, before laying a blanket over his sleeping form.

He found a pad of sticky notes on one of the counters and scribbled out a note to explain his absence if Patton woke up. Before slipping on his shoes and creeping out the door.

The air was cool on his face, his footsteps echoing through the neighbourhood, as he walked toward the library. It was a small town, population in the thousands, didn’t take a lot of effort to navigate. He wasn’t sure why he was going back but he kinda felt like he needed to.

“Hey runt!” A familiar and jarring voice called, he flinched, as a hand clapped his back. “Where’ve you been?”

“I don’t have anything for you, some assholes already snatched my bag.” He growled, hunching his shoulders, turning to face the guy.

He was taller than Virgil by a long shot, he was broader too, he wore a beanie and majority of his face was coated in facial hair. His gang were gathered in formation behind him. “You weren’t in your usual spot, _runt_ , somebody snatch that too?” He quirked an eyebrow up and Virgil swallowed thickly.

“N-No I found a new place, sheltered. Secret spot by the subway, third platform.” The lie tumbled out of Virgil’s mouth faster than he could stop it. He wasn’t _lying_ per say. There was a sheltered spot by the third platform. But it wasn’t exactly open to the public, much less the homeless, he’d found that out in a brief encounter with the police. They thought he was just a teen screwing around, and told him to go home. They didn’t really understand why he was shaking so much and on the verge of tears at such a simple statement. That seemed like so long ago now. “It wasn’t for me. I'm skipping town soon anyway.” Another lie, this time pure and black. He felt the guilt fester in his stomach, sickly.

“Well, we’ll make sure to give ya’ a parting gift. Catch you later, runt.” He shoved Virgil to the ground, before disappearing back down the alleyway beside the building.

Virgil sniffed, standing up, rubbing his elbow, he’d banged it of the cement when he hit the ground. “This is why you stay in safety, you idiot.” He muttered to himself. His footsteps were heavy and angry, as he headed back to Patton’s. The sun was just rising, he didn’t think he’d been gone for long, but time flies when you get ambushed by assholes you used to be friends with.  

He opened the door as quietly as possible, but the sounds from the kitchen indicated that Patton was awake.

The smell wafting to his nose was very pleasant, so he walked as nonchalantly as he could over to the breakfast bar.

“Mornin’ Virge! Thanks for the note.” Patton smiled, turning round from whatever he was cooking, to face the younger boy. His hair was a mess, and he was still in his pyjamas. It was odd seeing him in anything but the bright blue polo shirt he usually wore. Virgil smirked at the thought of a wardrobe full of them, like a cartoon character.

He glanced at the clock on the oven, 7:34, just under an hour, that wasn’t so bad.

“Hope you enjoyed your walk! Carbon loves walks, but I usually don’t get time to take her, you could if you’d like to.” He added, placing a plate of pancakes in front of Virgil, placing some condiments along side them.

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, lifting his fork. “Carbon? Like the element?”

“More like my dog.” Patton replied, setting down his own plate of pancakes.

Virgil spluttered, staring at Patton as though he was speaking a different language. “You’re telling me, that your dog’s name is _Carbon_?”

“Can you tell I didn’t name her?” Patton giggled, forking some of his breakfast into his mouth. “I would’ve called her fluffy, or squish, or pooch, but _no_ , Logan just had to make it science-y.” He was smiling as he spoke, so Virgil knew he wasn’t truly angry, but he giggled at the older man’s bitterness.

“I think it’s cool. Unusual maybe, but cool.” He replied, eating his own breakfast, now thoroughly smothered in maple syrup. “When do I get to meet her, and also _him,_ for that matter?”

“Well, it’ll be time for _her_ breakfast soon, and sometime soon. He doesn’t come by on Fridays, or else I would’ve made him breakfast.” Patton replied, pushing his glasses up, lifting his own plate and Virgil’s once they’d finished and setting them in the sink. “I’ll go get her. Can you pour her food? Top right cupboard, and her bowls are at your feet.” Patton gave him a wink before walking towards the back door.

Just as he completed the task, Virgil was tackled from behind and fell to the ground with a yelp before his face was attacked. Well… Licked would be the better word.

“Hey, easy, Carbon!” Patton shouted, laughing at the scene before him, as Virgil managed to push the dog off him and sat up. “Hey, who’s this stranger, huh? Is he a friend?” He spoke, his voice immediately softer, his questions exaggerated, as he watched her sniff Virgil’s hand as he tried to pet her.

Virgil smiled softly both at Patton, putting on a stupid voice for talking to the dog, and at Carbon, as she licked his hand and he ran his fingers through her short fur as she started on her breakfast.

“Oddly, Carbon suits her.”

“It’s ‘cause she’s black, Carbon is one of the only naturally black elements. It was either that or black corundum. And you know I'm not calling that out in the park.” Patton laughed, kneeling to pet his dog before getting up. “I'm gonna go get dressed, then we’re going out.”

“Out? Where?”

“Well, I'm sure a change of clothes would do you no harm.” Patton replied, before jogging upstairs.

Virgil smiled, before turning back to the dog. She was a black Labrador, he remembered the first time he met Patton, the older man had told him that. She was the perfect size, around knee height and light enough to lift if necessary. She wasn’t big enough to scare him nor was she small enough to be vicious or annoying. He already loved her, and to his relief, she seemed to like him.

“Aren’t you just so damn precious.” He whispered, almost angrily, as she turned to face him, her tail wagging like crazy as he stroked her head. “God, I’d love to stay here. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He spoke softly to the dog, like she could hear him, and was going to reply. He kinda wished she would, because he couldn’t tell Patton things like these.

It’d barely been a day and he already felt at home. With a dad, and a dog.

Never had he felt anything like that. He’d spent a lot of his childhood wishing for warmth, somebody who cared, a pet he could care for.

He couldn’t imagine how much it was going to hurt when Patton would tell him that it wasn’t going to work out. He wished he just had the ability to distance himself from feeling like this. But the warmth in his chest seemed to just grow, the more he repeated things like “my bed” over in his head. Little things, that made so much difference to him.

Carbon leant into him as he stroked her, so he smushed his face against her fur. “Do you think he still wants me here? I hope so.”

“Fuck, I hope so.”

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil shot up like a light, a strangled scream forced its way from his lips despite his greatest effort.

Fuck. Patton definitely heard that. He definitely heard that, and he’s going to realise how much of a freak Virgil is. How much trouble Virgil will be in the long run.

It was extremely early morning on Virgil’s fourth day.

“Fuck.” He whispered, wiping tears away with his hand. He didn’t have his hoodie sleeves to grab at, Patton had been kind enough to buy him a pair of pyjamas. “Why do I have to screw everything up?” He sniffed, gripping at the sheets of his blanket, clenching them in a white-knuckle grip.

He stiffened upon hearing footsteps.

He expected a yell and a bang on his door, or the door to slam open, almost breaking off the hinges as it hit the wall behind with a defining bang, or bright blinding torch-light shone onto his face before a bruise was planted there for the next week. He was shaking at this point, holding his breath to avoid making sound. He couldn’t bear to have Patton yell at him, especially when he didn’t mean to wake him up.

He’d tried with all his might to keep quiet.

Then a soft knock came, rapping on his door.  His shoulders dropped, and he stared at the door, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room.

“Hey kiddo you okay? I heard a yell.” Patton’s voice was raspy with sleep, but there was no anger present.

He wasn’t shaking so much now, and he let out a soft breath. “I-I’m fine, just a n-nightmare.” Virgil stammered out, his voice was hushed, just barely loud enough for Patton to hear.

“Meet me downstairs when you can breathe steady.” The older man replied with a soft laugh, and Virgil could hear him bouncing downstairs. Letting out a sigh he fell back against his pillows, his chest was rising at falling steadily and he ran a hand over his face. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he pushed himself out of bed.

The light downstairs lit up the hallway slightly, so he could see better, and walked downstairs with quiet footsteps. He’d learned from experience to walk on his toes, it’d become a habit at this point.

Patton was sitting on the couch with a mug in his hands, there was another on the coffee table, and his knitting back was at his feet. The weather forecast had threatened rain, so Carbon lay asleep on her bed by the backdoor, snoring softly. The TV illuminated the room, and the low volume of the cartoon created a soft hum, calming to listen to.

“I made cocoa. It helps when I can’t sleep.” Patton said quietly, turning to face Virgil, a soft smile on his face.

His hair was a mess, and his glasses were slightly askew. But he didn’t seem bothered at all by being woken up.

“I'm sorry I woke you.” Virgil rubbed his arm, shivering a little in his pyjamas, walking quietly over to the sofa, crossing his legs as he sat down and picking up his own mug. Another thing that Patton had bought for him, a pale lilac with a black inside.

Virgil didn’t know how the older man had guessed his favourite colour.

Patton chuckled much to Virgil’s confusion. “I'm sorry, you’re sorry. We all get nightmares Virge.” He set down his mug and picked up the knitting he’d been working at a few days before.

The younger boy smiled, and raised the mug to his lips, the familiar taste and stick of marshmallow crossed his tongue and he smiled, letting out a hum of content. The TV show playing had a bunch of rainbow ladies, it looked quite cool, but he couldn’t hear much of what they were saying.

“Carbon usually sleeps outside, mainly because Logan said that dogs are better for my allergies but sleeping by her wouldn’t be too great. But if you think that having her in your room would help, then I wouldn’t be opposed.” Patton spoke nonchalantly, his words almost slurred, whether it was due to sleepiness or concentration, as his hands worked the needles. Virgil found his voice quite calming to listen to. He’d never known somebody that he enjoyed listening to, every person who ever looked after him, had a voice that haunted his dreams and stuck in his head to this day.

Virgil smiled at the thought. “Like a guard dog?”

“Against your own psyche maybe. She’d be more likely to make friends with a burglar, than she’d be to attack one.“ The younger boy giggled, shaking his head.

“I like that idea.”

“Do you get a lotta nightmares?” Patton asked, glancing over at Virgil. “Other than your eyes themselves, the first thing I noticed were how dark your eyebags are.”

“The ghosts of childhood past.” Virgil replied simply, before finishing his drink, keeping the mug in his hands. Patton tilted his head to the side, giving Virgil a look of intrigue. “My mom, or my old family. Just a lot of yelling and pain. I’d prefer not to get into it.”

The older man didn’t push it. He knew that, given Virgil’s way of trust, it already took a lot of it to even give him that much information, and he was happy enough to drop it.

“Aw kiddo, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The teenager muttered, staring down into his empty cup, at the particles of chocolate powder that didn’t dissolve. “If it makes you feel better, you’re the nicest guardian I’ve had.” He gave Patton a soft smile, and the older man shot one back, continuing on with his knitting. “How’d you get into knitting anyway?” Virgil yawned, setting his mug down.

“I’m like grandma, I’m always cold.” Patton replied, sticking his tongue out. “It’s relaxing, and kind of rewarding.”

“You bake, you wear a cardigan, you knit and you’re always cold. Very grandmotherly characteristics. But I wouldn’t know from experience.” He laughed, sighing a little and leaning back against the sofa cushions, his eyes drooping.

The house was warm, practically pulling him back into sleep, he could feel his heartbeat in his head, steady, rhythmic.

“If you meet my mom you’ll realise where I get it.” The older man replied, biting his lip as he tried his best not to miss any stitches. “Virgil?”

Virgil didn’t reply, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow, he had his legs curled into his body and was leaning against the arm of the couch. He’d fallen asleep, well, mostly anyway. Patton smiled, setting down the wool, turning off the TV.

Making sure he wasn’t going to hurt him, he slipped his arm under the bend in Virgil’s knees, the other supporting his back, and hoisted him up bridal style. Immediately Virgil gripped his pyjama shirt, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Its just me kiddo, I’m bringing you to bed.” Patton spoke quietly.

It worried him that he was holding a sixteen-year-old boy, a boy who wasn’t much shorter than him, yet he seemed to weigh as much as a child. Patton felt uneasy holding him as he started up the stairs, Virgil felt so frail in his arms he was almost afraid of breaking him. It hurt his heart knowing that this was the state of somebody he cared about.

Opening Virgil’s door, he laid the younger boy on his bed, switching on the lamp at the bedside table, in case another nightmare hit him, but he doubted it would happen.

“Night kiddo.” He ruffled Virgil’s already messed up hair, before walking to the door, he smiled at the boy. He couldn’t help but hope that Virgil would want to stay. “Love you bud.”

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Patton was up early on the sixth day. He knew for a fact that Logan would be over this morning, and he also knew that Logan knew nothing about Virgil.

To say he was anxious was an understatement.

Either way he arose, pulling on a pair of slacks and a striped polo shirt. Joan had bought it for him from their trip to Harry Potter world. He liked the pirate look. Joan was certain that he was a Gryffindor, but Talyn refused and dubbed him a Hufflepuff. He didn’t like to disagree, so he accepted being both.

After the morning routine, he ran down the stairs to get started on breakfast, knocking on Virgil’s door before he did so. “Kiddo, we got a big day ahead, make yourself decent!”

“Pancakes!” Virgil called back, and Patton grinned, before running downstairs.

His newest and happiest discovery from the past few days is that Virgil loves pancakes just as much as he does. But he had to remind the younger boy that he can’t eat them every day. As much as he’d love to, Patton had to take care of him, and that diet would be the opposite.

Even though Virgil needed extra weight, doing that wasn’t the right way to go about it.

Virgil was down, with carbon at his heels in a matter of ten minutes, letting the dog outside to run around and do her business. He patted Patton on the shoulder, as he got her food and water out into her bowls. That was one of his responsibilities.

He took care of Carbon for the most part, and he dried the dishes. It wasn’t much for him to be asked, and Patton appreciated the help a ton.

He was wearing a deep purple flannel and his jeans, the ripped ones. Patton thought they looked trendy, so he kept them, unlike Virgil’s backpack that had every stain under the sun, as well as a few holes. But he had ordered a similar one in secret, as a replacement.

He was still wearing the battered not-converse that he had when Patton met him. The older man was going to get him some proper boots. He figured Doc Martens were sturdy, Logan had been wearing the same pair of shoes for two years, and Talyn had boots from three years ago that were still pristine.

And while they were expensive, Virgil was worth the price. Besides, they’d fit his aesthetic.

Though, if Virgil didn’t want to stay, he wouldn’t have the money in time, pay day was Friday, Virgil’s seventh day was Thursday.

But he supposed those were the breaks.

His front door opened with a sharp rap.

“Good day, Patton!” Logan smiled, as Patton glanced over at him, offering him one back as he set a second pancake on a third plate, setting in on the counter by a jar of jam. “I brought you some new orchids, as I am aware a certain _canine_ destroyed your violets.” He nodded toward an empty vase on the kitchen table.

Virgil had been crouched down behind the breakfast bar, watching Carbon as she ate, so Logan hadn’t seen him. But the younger boy had stood up, unspoken. Supposedly just as nervous as Patton himself.

“These ones are fake, as you can tell by their… Electric, blue colour. Though I thought they’d fit well with your décor.” Logan continued.

Patton chuckled, turning the stove off. “Aww, thanks Lo’! That’s so sweet!” He gushed, looking at the fake plant more closely, it looked extremely real.

“Shall I set them on the table?” Logan asked, and Patton offered a nod, realising that he couldn’t and shouldn’t hide Virgil from him forever. It had surprised him that Logan hadn’t noticed him standing there.

And he wasn’t about to start lying to Logan, he got lucky that the logical man had the extra work come up, he was working on another book, and lord knows he needed to get it out.

Logan turned his gaze from Patton and froze, staring at Virgil, who was staring at the ground, pretending that he couldn’t see Logan, trying to ignore the older man’s gaze burning into his body.

“Who is this? A friend? Boyfriend?” Logan asked, turning to Patton, and Virgil let out a giggle, immediately covering his mouth with his hand.

Logan stepped closer, trying to get a better look at Virgil. “Poor posture, lack of wrinkles, prominent eye bags. Too young. Babysitting?” He pushed his glasses up, glancing at Patton for approval.

“I’ll explain over breakfast. Let’s sit down, I’m sure you’re hungry.” Patton replied, setting down both his and Virgil’s plates on the table, grabbing Logan’s as the other man put the flowers in the vase, and Virgil brought Carbon back outside.

Patton watched as Logan spooned some jam onto his pancakes, his eyebrows were furrowed as he did so, but his expression softened when he realised Patton was looking at him.

“So,” Logan started as Virgil sat down at the table. “Who are you?”

Patton watched as Virgil froze, setting down the maple syrup with trembling hands. “J-just, uh, just call me V.” He gave Patton a fearful look.

Patton remembered Virgil saying that he thought his name was stupid, Logan didn’t come off as the kindest person, so it made sense for him to be scared.

Logan smiled, nodding, in an attempt to be reassuring, it seemed to work slightly as Virgil’s shoulders began to untense. “Pleasure to meet you, V. I’m Dr. Logan Sanders, a friend-“

“Best friend!” Patton cut in, a smile on his face.

Logan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, a _best_ friend, of Patton.”

“Logan Sanders?”

“Was my speech not clear?” There was no malice in his tone, and he looked at Patton with genuine concern. He always took his speaking very seriously, he didn’t like repeating himself and hated when people couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“No, i-it was perfect, its just- I just- I love your work!” Patton relaxed as he saw the sparkle in Virgil’s eyes, and the smile on his face as he spoke, it meant he was easing up. And Logan seemed intrigued and amazed as the younger boy talked. “I-I’ve read all your books. The history and psychology ones were my definite favourites.” He went bright red, ending his speech abruptly, realising that he was rambling, and he poked his food around his plate in an effort to distract himself.

“You do realise those are college level?” Logan replied. “I mean no offense, but you don’t appear to be college age. I’d guess fourteen.” He pushed up his glasses, staring at Virgil in fascination.

“Sixteen.” Virgil bit his lip.

“If you say so.” Logan furrowed his brow for a moment, before placing a smile on his face again. “So, what is your relation to him?” He asked Patton.

“ _Well,_ depending on how tomorrow goes. And _his_ decision.” The older man glanced at Virgil, who had slipped his thumbs through the cuffs of his flannel. Seemingly trying to shrink back into himself. “He is my son.”

Logan froze. Setting down his fork, with a clatter against his plate. “You didn’t tell me.” His voice was hushed, as if Virgil wasn’t sitting near enough to hear them.

Patton’s heart stopped. He hated that tone.

“Well I knew you’d try and prevent me from it!” Patton whisper-shouted back at him.

“You don’t know that.” Logan replied, slamming his hand on the table, pointing at Patton, Virgil flinched at the noise as he watched the events unfurl with panic in his eyes.

“It was a highly likely occurrence.” Patton scoffed, he was speaking at normal volume, now.

“Falsehood!” Logan shouted, he was standing now. “Maybe if you didn’t just _assume_ things, you _would_ know!”

“Oh really? Because assuming things is all you ever do, Sherlock!” Patton was yelling now, mimicking his actions.

The panic within Virgil rose, he was shaking now, gripping the seat of his chair, and biting his lip in order to try and control himself. Patton glanced over as Logan was yelling his retort, his face falling as he noticed Virgil quaking in his seat.

“Logan, can you _just_ stop!?”

The other man froze. He closed his eyes with his fists trembling at his sides. He glanced at Virgil, who was crying, shaking as he covered his ears like a child, staring at both him and Patton in fear. He stared at Patton, who could feel the pressure of a sob rising in his throat, as he recognised the damage they had just done.

Logan was silent. But pushed his glasses up, as he walked upstairs, his footsteps practically non-existent.

“Yeah, go to _your_ room in _my_ house. Dick.” Patton muttered beneath his breath, he was gripping the table, to help stabilise himself.

Then he immediately went to comfort Virgil, placing a hand on the younger boys shoulder. “Kiddo, I-“

“Don’t.” He choked out, flinching away from Patton’s touch. “I-I’ll b-be outside, t-t-talk to m-me when y-you’ve calmed d-down!” He stammered out through his tears, pushing himself up from the table, and walking to the back door. To Patton’s surprise, he didn’t slam it closed. Teenage Patton wouldn’t have just slammed the door, he would’ve made sure the glass was broken.

The older man let out a dejected sigh, staring at the orchids in the vase.

He sat down, placing his head in his hands and simply whispering to himself. “Way to go, idiot.”

 

* * *

 

 

Patton checked on Virgil before he and Logan had to go to work. The younger boy was laying on the grass in the back yard, humming a tune to himself as he fiddled with the cuffs of his flannel. His eyes were closed, but his face was scrunched in discomfort.

The older man wished he could’ve said something, anything just to make it okay again, but he figured he’d script his apology at work. Some half assed ‘I'm sorry’ wasn’t going to cut it here.

He was still out there when Patton got home, Carbon lay at his side, placing a ball in his hand, which he threw lazily without even looking.

Quietly, Patton made his way over, a cardboard container in his hands, as he sat down beside the younger boy.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Patton.” Virgil mumbled back, keeping his eyes shut.

Patton took in a breath. “I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to lose my temper, I didn’t mean to shout, I didn’t mean to scare you. I'm so sorry, Virgil.” His voice was shaky, his hands shaking, barely holding the box, so he set it on the grass before he dropped it. “A-And I get it, completely, if you don’t wanna stay. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you and I broke that promise. No apology can mend that.”  He chuckled bitterly as a tear fell down his face.

“You’re an idiot.” Virgil spoke quietly.

Patton frowned. “What?”

“You think that I _don’t_ want to stay? Of course, I want to stay! I love it here, more than anywhere else. You fought with the man you love because of me, you shouldn’t want _me_ anymore.” Virgil had sat up now, staring at the grass, picking at the blades to keep his hands occupied. “You _lost_ the man you love because of me.”

Patton froze, as he stared at Virgil. He blamed himself? How could he blame himself? He’d done nothing wrong, nothing in the slightest, yet he believed it was his fault. Whoever had done this to him, Patton could never forgive.

But he was no better than those people anymore.

“Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself. This isn’t your fault in the slightest. Logan…” The name, his name felt odd on his tongue. He usually never called him by his full name. “He’s a complicated man. He’s stubborn, quick tempered, just _quick_ in general. He knows everything. I go to him with every big decision I make, and this one, the biggest one yet, I left him out on. He was mad, and I was defensive. Neither of us meant to hurt you. It’s my fault, not yours.”

Virgil grinned, and Patton furrowed his eyebrows, confused. Virgil expressed happiness in soft smiles, smirks, and quiet laughs, and here he was grinning like the damn Cheshire cat.

“What? Did I say something funny?”

Virgil looked at him, his eyes sparkling with glee once again. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?” Patton stared back, still confused.

“That you love him.”

Numb. Numb was all Patton felt as he stared at the teenager in front of him. His face paled, and his heart started to hammer. His stomach turned over on itself. He watched Virgil smirk at him once he realised he was right. He watched Logan without the glasses, Logan without the help, Logan without Patton, stare at him in triumph. Memories came crashing back like a flood, a tidal wave, a hurricane, raining down on him. And it hurt.

He couldn’t fucking breathe.

“H-How?” Patton managed to choke out.

“You stare at him like he put the fucking stars in the sky, Patton, how could I not notice? He walked into the room and your ears went scarlet, a smile on your face and eyes dilated. Like you just walked out of a Romance novel!” Virgil paused. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“Of course, he doesn’t know!” Patton stood up, running his hands through his hair. A secret he’d kept for nearly fourteen years had just been outed in a matter of hours. It was insane. The worst part was that it had been so supressed that it was a secret to him at this point. He forgot that Logan drove him crazy, he forgot that even the most mundane conversations, could leave him smiling all day. Had it just become subconscious? Maybe just so mundane. “Why on earth _would_ he? He’s the most brilliant man on the planet! I'm a dim-witted baker!”

“Christ you really do, don’t you?” Virgil replied. “Maybe you should tell him. I know he’s mad, but he needs to know.”

“Kiddo, at the moment, those feelings don’t matter. You’re my main priority. Stupid crushes over dorky geniuses, can wait.” Patton smiled softly. “I know it’s not much, but I brought you something from work? I doubt you’ve eaten today.” He saw Virgil’s still uneaten pancakes on the table when he got home, so that was definite.

He handed the younger boy the box, in it were two cupcakes. Simple frosting, piped in a swirl, dyed black, and white chocolate letters hardened in cursive. They were simple, and fitting. Talyn had made fun of him, because he’d scraped off and redone the letters more times than he could count. But they understood why he was doing it.

“Fam-ily?” Virgil’s tone was uncertain.

“Do you want the ‘fam’ or ‘I love you’?” Patton asked, and he couldn’t help but grin as Virgil hit him in the shoulder playfully, leaning against him now.

“I accept your apology by the way.” Virgil replied, handing Patton the ‘fam’ cupcake. “I wasn’t mad at you I was just…”

“Scared?”

“Yeah… Scared. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it.” The younger boy replied. “I just… Trusting people doesn’t come easy, and there have been so many times and… I’ve been on my own for a while, I forgot what needing somebody was. I didn’t know what _family_ was in the first place. Now that I have it, I don’t want it taken away from me.” His voice gradually became quieter, his hands shaking as he held the cupcake.

Patton knew why he was nervous. The younger boy hated being vulnerable, he hated talking about his emotions, he hated talking in general. He preferred sarcasm and playful insults, not the basics of therapy. With a topic as sensitive as this, it probably took a lot of courage for him to even utter the first word.

The older man held his shoulder, turning in a way so he could study the younger boy’s actions. “Virgil. Do you want to stay here? With me, as your guardian.”

“I want nothing more.” Virgil replied, setting his cupcake back in the box.

It was just as well, seeing as the moment he spoke the words he was pulled against Patton’s chest. His second hug.

“Me neither kiddo.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next day came with a jump start, Virgil jerked awake, and nearly fell off the couch. He’d fallen sleep there after Patton insisted on a cartoon marathon, nearly taking a heart attack when he discovered that Virgil had never seen Adventure time.

Patton was still asleep beside him, his glasses fallen on the floor, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Carbon was waiting to be let outside, so begrudgingly the teenager pushed himself up, and unlocked the back door, smiling softly as she ran around the garden.

He shook Patton slightly, against his best judgement, but this time there was no alcohol in the adult’s system, no anger issues either. So, it should be safe. Patton jumped awake too, searching frantically round the room before noticing Virgil’s blurry figure handing him his glasses.  The teenager couldn’t help but giggle at the state of the older mans hair, sticking out every which way.

“Morning kiddo, you sleep well?” Patton asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, before standing up to stretch, an audible crack heard from his back.

“Well enough, yeah. I'm gonna go get dressed and stuff.” Virgil replied, shooting Patton some finger guns before running upstairs.

He was finding it hard to breathe. Unsure of whether it was stress, or worry, but his heartbeat was going faster than seemed normal.

Shrugging it off, Virgil opened his closet. Pulling out the closest thing with long sleeves. A hoodie, purple, with chequered patches.

“When’d he get this?” Virgil muttered, grabbing a t-shirt to wear underneath.

The hoodie fit nicely, it was baggy enough to hide how small he actually was, the cuffs had texture, something he liked, easy to grab. Brushing his hair into a somewhat suitable state, he frowned at the mirror, his eye bags weren’t going away, he was still gaunt and pale. Ugly.

“I’ll ask Pat about a haircut later.” He told himself, tearing his gaze away from his reflection. Placing a smile on his face and opening his bedroom door.

“He doesn’t like being crowded, just you, Joan and Logan…” Patton was talking to somebody, was he inviting people over? “Yes, we can get Pizza… I know I know, Papa Johns, no cheese, I got you Tal… I’m gonna ask him when he comes down…” Virgil walked down the stairs quietly, to see Patton on the phone, his back facing Virgil as he spoke. “I will, I will!... Okay, bye love you.”

“Patton?” He spoke quietly.

The older man spun around, a smile present on his face as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “Hey! Kiddo I was just talking about you.”

“I heard.”

“Yeah, I was telling Talyn about the arrangement. They thought we should celebrate!” Patton replied, pushing himself onto one of the breakfast bar stools.

“A celebration?” Virgil replied, his heartbeat showed no sign of slowing, and he could feel his shoulders tense up.

“Yeah, nothing big, just Talyn, Joan and us. We’re gonna play games and stuff.” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Virgil. “You okay kiddo? We don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable.”

“N-No it’s fine, I just…” He felt dizzy and choked up, his entire body seemed to be shaking. “Gimme a minute.” He sprinted back upstairs on trembling feet, his breathing caught in the back of his throat and he fell back against his bedroom door the moment it shut. His head was pounding, and his ears were ringing louder than they ever had before. He pushed his back against the door, gripping the cuffs of the hoodie sleeves, trying to steady himself as best he could.

What was wrong with him?

“You okay Virge?” Patton asked.

He didn’t try and open the door, he wasn’t shouting either.

Virgil heard a soft thud against the door. He assumed it was Patton leaning against it.

“They’re called panic attacks. Usually people with anxiety get ‘em, but people who don’t have it can as well, its just less common.” Patton’s voice was calming, it wasn’t loud and screaming, it was smooth, and rhythmic. Just loud enough to cut through the noise in Virgil’s head. “What I find most effective is to shut my eyes.”

Virgil shut his eyes, trying not to squeeze them tight, just to relax his face.

“Now just focus on my voice. Another thing that helps is trying to count numbers or say the alphabet. But say it out of order. The brain can’t focus on scrambling the numeric system _and_ freaking out all at once.” Patton kept talking like nothing was going wrong, the same way he’d talk about the price of milk, or the state of the weather.

He was calm. How could he be so calm when Virgil was being such a nuisance? How could he help Virgil when all he was doing was distracting him?

“You still with me Virge?” His voice cut through Virgil’s thoughts.

“Y-Yeah.” Virgil choked out. “Uhm, one, six, three, seven, four, eight, two, ten, nine, five.” He spoke shakily, tears crawling up his throat as he shook.

“Repeat the sequence, over and over, like a mantra.” Patton replied. “You’re doing amazing.”

The younger boy spoke the numbers again, and again, until it was subconscious, and he could feel the weight being removed from his shoulders. His breathing began to steady gradually, the shaking stopping the more he spoke.

“Do you know what caused it?” Patton’s voice was still muffled from the door. Like a phone call. He was safe behind the door. He couldn’t see the judgement that would be written on the older man’s face when he couldn’t give a reasonable answer.

He was safe to answer.

“I-I dunno. I’m sorry, I-I’m really sorry.” He was getting worked up again, he could feel it, he could feel the tightening of his chest. And the more he thought about it the worse it got.

“Hey, no apologies. That’s okay. I wanted to know if it was something I did, then I would know for again.”

“You can invite them round.” Virgil blurted out, realising he hadn’t given a confirmed answer.

Patton giggled a little, and a smile crept onto Virgil’s face. “I let them know, you gonna come out here? I don’t wanna leave until I know you’re okay.” He could hear Patton standing, but still no door handle creaking, no door pushing up against him, and no angry shouts coming from the other side. Barely muffled by the thin slab of wood that would eventually give way to a rage filled boot through the door. “You don’t have to do anything, I don’t mind sitting here.”

“No, hold on.” Virgil replied, pushing himself off the floor. He gripped the door handle, his knuckles glowing white as the cool metal seeped into his hand. Taking a breath, he turned it and pulled the door open.

To his surprise, Patton was still there, Virgil supposed he had always been a man of his word.

“You feeling okay?” Patton asked, placing a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

The teenager offered him a smile, nodding his head in response. “We should get going, we have a celebration to set up.”

 

**\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Talyn greeted him with a hug. Well, it was more like a rugby tackle than anything else. He laughed as they practically screamed congratulations at him in their excitement, before commenting on his hoodie.

“It’s sick dude! I definitely have to bring you out to get clothes sometime.” They nudged him, and he rolled his eyes, nudging them back.

Joan who followed shortly behind them, rolled their eyes at Talyn and offered him a handshake, introducing themself. Before commenting on how dark and mysterious his eyes were, to which he offered thanks.

“So, you’re the infamous Virgil, huh?” They asked, crossing their arms over their chest.

“Infamous?” Virgil asked, confused.

Joan grinned, adjusting their beanie. “Patton talks about you a lot.”

“Oh…”

They both greeted Patton with gleeful words and mutual embrace.

“Pizza should be coming in about an hour. I thought we could start with Mario kart?” Patton replied.

“Hell yeah!”

It was nice to see him with the people he cared about the most.

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” Patton announced, as they loaded up the game, syncing controllers.

“In your dreams!” Joan replied. “I’m beating you seventeen to ten.”

“They keep track?” Virgil asked Talyn quietly, who rolled their eyes offering a nod.

They folded their arms. “Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll add you to the tally.”

“Well we can’t subtract him from you.” Patton cut in, and Joan hit him in the shoulder, receiving a startled yelp, before they began the game.

A few rounds of playful banter and Virgil had won his first ever round of Mario Kart, much to Patton's delight and Joan’s chagrin. He really enjoyed this game. He really enjoyed these people. His people.

It was nice to spend time with them, he never really had before.

The next face who showed up at the door a short while later, was unexpected.

Virgil ran to get the door, he was feeling a bit more confident now, and didn’t want any of the other three to have to get up.

So, he opened the door, not quite sure who he was expecting, to be met with somebody he did not.

Logan.

There he was, hands behind his back, trench coat buttoned to the collar, the pristine features all aligned just as serious as they were yesterday. The features that contorted into a yelling fit of anger and flurry of shouting.

Immediately Virgil’s breath quickened, and his fingers closed around the ends of his hoodie sleeves. The room seemed to vanish behind them, Patton’s voice fading from his ears behind him.

The ringing began to start, and he could feel his fists shaking as he stared at the man in front of him.

All he could hear were yells of anger, and his name screamed so loud the floorboards shook.

Logan didn’t break eye contact with him but cleared his throat. “I am aware I am unwelcomed, but I come offering an apology. My behaviour yesterday was uncalled for. Had I been a bit more observant I would have noticed the prevalence of your anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorders. I apologise for the quickness in my temperament, and for the pain it forced upon you.” His voice cut through the ringing, it didn’t stop it like Patton’s did.

“Ahem… I- I have a gift, think of it as a peace offering.” He handed Virgil a box, it was wrapped delicately, with precision. “And this should go nicely with it.” The older man added, placing another box in Virgil’s hands, this one equally wrapped.  

“W-Wow, uhm… Thank-you Logan. That’s really kind of you.” Virgil spoke, still somewhat in disbelief, he’d never been given a present like this before. Everything Patton did for him was stuff he deemed necessary. But this was something else.

Logan offered him a smile, before shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “I’ll be off then, give Patton my best wishes.” He nodded at the younger boy before turning to walk down the path.

“Hey- uh Logan?” Virgil called out, running out the door, the cold air bringing him back to reality, the sounds coming into his ears once again as the anxiety slowly melted away.

Logan turned, a look of confusion written on his face.

“We’re having a party kinda thing. Joan and Talyn are here. You can join us if you want?” Virgil replied. “We were playing Mario Kart, Patton was gonna get some board games and stuff?” He could have kicked himself for sounding so unsure of his own words. This was Logan fucking Sanders, the smartest man he’d ever met, one of his biggest idols, and the man who’d scared him within an inch of his life in the first twenty minutes of knowing him.

He couldn’t be an anxious mess anymore.

To his surprise Logan offered him a nod. “That sounds pleasant. Does-“

“Oh, here you are, kiddo. We were so confu- Logan?” His voice trailed away into confusion, and Virgil froze.

“I’ll be inside.” He pointed toward the door before running past Patton, only to be met with a confused looking Joan and Talyn, presumably walking out to see what was happening.  

“What’s happening out there?” Joan asked, concern written in their voice.

Virgil shrugged. “Logan came to apologise.”

“Logan? Why’s he apologising what happened?” They adjusted their beanie, looking a Virgil for an answer.

“They got in a fight yesterday. About me.”

“A lover’s quarrel.” Talyn remarked with a grin and Joan laughed, shoving them lightly.

Virgil's eyes widened. “You know?”

“Everybody who’s ever seen them knows. Well, apart from the two of them.” Joan replied. “Okay they’re gonna hug and make up, so we gotta sit and act like we weren’t trying to listen.” They dragged Talyn to the couch, and Virgil followed behind, sitting on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, he pretended to watch the TV as Joan and Talyn talked about something he didn’t recognise.

“Joan! I'm gonna beat your butt in Mario Kart, you better be scared!” Patton replied as he jogged back into the house, Logan close behind, hanging his coat on the coat rail before joining the others on the couch.

Virgil let out a small sigh of relief.

The night continued on, Pizza was had, and games were played. Talyn and Joan left earlier, and Logan stayed to watch a film, Patton insisted on Winnie the Pooh.

Virgil slipped upstairs after Patton fell asleep, Logan insisted on taking care of it.

The wrapped boxes were left discarded on his bed. So, crossing his legs on the mattress, he picked up the first one. It was heavier than he expected it to be. Carefully he undid the wrapping, trying to take it apart as delicately as it had been put together.

He let out a soft gasp when it was unwrapped.

A pair of headphones, soundproof, the option to be Bluetooth. They were black, with purple LEDs.

Setting them carefully aside, he moved onto the next box, not taking as much haste as before, he tore the paper off.

A Walkman, it was a CD player, alongside it was a disc. Classical music. There was a note taped to it, the letters written in a neat symmetrical print.

Virgil spoke the words as he read them on the paper, the note trembling in his shaking hands.

“ _Dear V,_

_I am aware that my actions yesterday were unacceptable. I adore Patton, and if you are a part of his life, I’d love nothing more than to be a part of yours. Please take these as a token of apology, appreciation and gratitude._

_Classical music helps with stress, please use these items in tandem, when an anxiety attack hits._

_If you would like any more CDs, feel free to let me know._

_Yours sincerely_

_Dr Logan Sanders.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING !! HOMOPHOBIC SLURS

He was falling, screaming, his eyes squeezed shut, he couldn’t bear to open then and see what was about to happen. He hit the ground with a cry of agonising pain and then he was running again. His breathing kept increasing in speed and no matter how hard he pushed, how much he screamed, how much his chest hurt; he was getting nowhere.

He screamed for Virgil, his throat straining as his vocal chords tensed and which each screaming breath his lungs were shredding. He didn’t know where he was or how to get to him. He just knew that he needed to. The kid was in just as much danger as he, and if tragedy were to occur, he could never forgive himself.

He could feel the dread rising in his stomach, whatever he was running from was getting closer. It would swallow him whole or erase him completely.

The world around him, was desolate, a dark blue wasteland, with no clouds in the sky. No sun was shining, no moon was glowing. Nothing to comfort him, nobody to run to.

Why was he running then?

He choked, and paused, collapsing to the ground, struggling to move forward, his face scraped up and palms grazed.

The thing was getting closer. He had no proof, no indicator, no sight, no smell, no hearing.

But he knew it was coming for him.

He didn’t know why or what it was, but it was bad.

And now it had gotten him.  

Patton jumped awake, slamming his hand down on his alarm, before realising it hadn’t gone off in the first place.

He sighed, falling back against his mattress, feeling his heart pounding in his head.

He hadn’t had a dream like that in a while.

It was Virgil’s first day at school.

They’d gone through the fostering process, the endless papers and inspections seemed like a waking nightmare, but now they were over it all seemed worth it. Virgil was his son, at least for the next six months.

He didn’t like to think about it, the idea was both terrifying and exciting; Patton was considering adopting him, though he’d save that prospect for another day.

Virgil even came clean about his age, Patton knew he’d been lying about it, but it was nice to have him tell him willingly, rather than interrogating him about it, or finding out through documents.

Patton didn’t know until Logan pointed it out. How Virgil never looked anybody in the eye until he was sure they weren’t harmful. How Virgil’s shoulders would raise the moment anybody spoke his name. How he winced any time anybody raised their voice. It wasn't a wonder why Virgil lied about his age, he didn't want to seem vulnerable. 

It wasn’t just panic attacks, they’d gone further than that, ruined him more than that.

Patton loved everybody, could forgive anybody, saw the good in each and every person.

He cared about people. But he _hated_ those people.  

But now was the next obstacle. School.

He knew that wouldn’t go down well with the younger boy. Virgil hated crowds, and social interaction, he hated speaking in front of others. School would be a living hell for him and they were both very aware of it.

It had to be done though. Patton couldn’t afford a private tutor, and he wasn’t capable of home-schooling.

And as good as Logan’s books are, they aren’t school.

He pushed himself up, the cracks in his back slightly unnerving as he stretched, before getting dressed and ready for the day.

Logan would bring Virgil to school, and Patton would walk to work.

It was a normal day.

He rapped Virgil's door, receiving a groan in response, and Patton couldn’t help but grin        remembering his teenage years. “C’mon kiddo! The day is new!” Patton called out, a smile in his words, as well as his face.

Things had been going smoothly for him and Virgil. Virgil went to the library or walked Carbon whilst Patton was a work, and when he came home, they watched TV, played video games, and cards.

Joan and Talyn had come around a few times, each time they’d bring Virgil something new, whether it be a gift, or a fact, or a joke. They always brought something. Talyn had started trying to convince Virgil to dye his hair, and Joan was often interested in his academics, them being a teacher, like Logan.

Logan was still distant to Virgil. Which bothered Patton slightly. He supposed there was nothing he could do about it. They never really seemed to talk, at least not in the same way either of them would talk to Patton. It was usually just an exchange of short sentences or nods.

Patton didn’t understand.

But at least they got along.

Virgil came running down the stairs a few moments later, Carbon running ahead of him, and straight to the door. He was like a hurricane, opening the door, then running back upstairs to get his backpack, before running back down the stairs to eat the breakfast Patton had made.

“You nervous kiddo?” Patton asked, as he ate his own breakfast.

Virgil shrugged. “A little, I guess.” He replied, but Patton could see his hand shaking as he tried to hold his spoon. He felt terrible.

“Good morning!” Logan called, as he walked through the door, greeting Patton with a smile, and nodding at Virgil. “Are you excited about your first day?”

“More so scared.” Virgil replied, avoiding eye contact with both men.

“If you need to, you can excuse yourself to come see me. I understand if it gets too much. None of the other teachers are aware of your heightened anxiety.” Logan spoke, making sure his tone wasn’t too demanding.

Patton nodded, Virgil had insisted on keeping his anxiety a secret, he didn’t want the pity talk and looks of sympathy. He didn’t want any special treatment, he just wanted to be treated like a normal kid. When he told the older man about it he could have cried.

“Make sure you come to my class when school ends, I do have to drive you home after all.” The tie clad man added.

Virgil nodded, and Patton grinned at him. “You’ll do great kiddo. No pressure, but try and make some friends, Joan and Talyn can’t be your only ones.”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at the older man, who did the same in return.

“How mature of you both.” Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face that was being concealed, albeit not very well. “We have to be off, V. I need to make sure my lessons are still prepped adequately.” He added.

“Oh! Kiddo, don’t forget your lunch!” Patton exclaimed, handing Virgil a purple plastic box.

Virgil smiled, taking the box and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, following Logan as he headed for the door. Patton followed behind them.

“Good luck, Kiddo.” He placed a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder.

He was completely taken aback when Virgil practically tackled him with a hug, his head rested firmly in the crook of Patton's neck, as the older man reciprocated the gesture. “Thanks… Dad.” He spoke softly, before running down the path toward Logan’s car.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, you know your timetable, and everything is in order?” Logan attempted some small talk as they walked through the gates of the school.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah I-I think so.” He was clinging to the straps of his backpack.

“You have second period in my classroom. Teachers shouldn’t make you introduce yourself, if they do, let me know. Otherwise, I think that’s everything.” Logan spoke, now walking down the halls, he came to a halt, outside a different classroom. “This is your homeroom, you come here before first, and after final period.”

He knocked the door, pushing it open to reveal another teacher sitting at a desk, she had long brown hair and shocking red lipstick. She greeted Logan with a smile.

“Dr Sanders, how might I help you?” She asked.

“This is Virgil Heart, Patton’s kid. He’s in your class, so I thought you wouldn’t mind me dropping him off here.” That was the first time Logan had ever used Virgil’s full name, the younger boy didn’t even realise that he knew it in the first place.

Virgil offered an awkward wave, to the teacher who nodded softly, and pointed him to a chair against a wall in the middle row. He gave a nod of gratitude to Logan who bid farewell and made his way down to his own class.

“I’m Mrs Torres. I used to be a Heart y’know, cool name isn’t it?” She spoke, breaking the cold silence of the classroom.

She taught Spanish, that was clear to see, the flag of Spain and Mexico, plastered everywhere, and translations of months and colours in laminated sheets up and down the walls.

Virgil shrugged. “I-I like it a lot more than what it used to be.”

“And what would that be?” The boy could hear her keyboard clattering, he was tensed.

Virgil didn’t particularly want to talk about it, but he supposed she was a member of an authority. He couldn’t just refuse. “I used to be Pechman, Virgil Pechman…” He allowed his voice to trail away slightly. He hated that name, more than anything.

The teacher chuckled slightly. “For what it’s worth, I think Heart suits you far more.”

To Virgil's relief, the bell let out a shrill ring, and he could hear footsteps in the hallways. The teacher got up from her desk, walking toward the door to let her class in.

They filed in through the door, and the once empty classroom was now buzzing with life, students alike and unlike in appearance and personality, swarmed the room with noise. Virgil's hands clenched around his hoodie sleeves. He hated this.

Some kid took a seat beside him, before turning to their friends in the row behind, and he let out a breath of relief that nobody wanted to speak to him.

“Alright, settle down everyone, I'm calling role. Alan Bennet? Katie Bor?...” Her voice trailed away into a soft hum as he lost interest.

Though much sooner than he expected, _his_ name rang through the classroom.

“Virgil Heart?”

“Uh- p-present.” He spoke, cursing himself for stuttering. Immediately he wished he had the power to vanish, as various whispers ran around the classroom, separated by the names called out by Mrs Torres.

“Ms?” A student asked, a boy, in a red bomber jacket, his hair combed with not a strand out of place. “Is Virgil Heart related to you? Y’know, small town and everything.” He smiled at her, clearly a charmer, and Virgil attempted not to look phased.

“Unfortunately, no, though I'm sure he’d be lovely to have as family.”

Classes went smoothly, Logan handed out his books, set down the rules, and gave the period free. And that’s how all the classes were, introductions, housekeeping, and then nothing at all.

Then lunch came around.

He took a seat at an empty table. Content to eat alone and be with his thoughts. He would have brought his Walkman, but he was terrified of breaking it. He was uneasy even taking downstairs to chill with Patton when he was knitting. Taking it to school would be a nightmare.

Logan offered to let him spend lunch with him in his classroom, but he declined the invitation.

No special treatment, not this time.

The cafeteria made him uneasy, a loud of sounds and the clattering of pots and pans from the kitchen. The food didn’t look too bad, but he was happy to have his own lunch. He was just about to open the purple box when a loud crash sounded behind him, and stunned silence filled the room.

Turning around he saw the kid in the red bomber jacket, the one from homeroom who asked about him, lying on the ground, clutching his arm in pain.

“Look at the gaylord, you gonna cry? Pussy.” A boy stood over him. He was average height but he did have muscle, and wore round glasses. His face was scrunched up into a scowl and Virgil frowned immediately. The bully placed his foot on top of the bomber jacket guy’s hand. “Don’t be such a faggot, nobody wants you here. I bet you get off on this huh? Being dominated? You make me sick.” Virgil could see him slowly adding more pressure. He was going to break it.

Nobody was doing anything, they’d all gone back to eating lunch like normal, not one person standing up for this guy.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted, getting up and pushing the bully off of his hand. “What’s he done to you huh?” He veins were filled with adrenaline as his heart hammered in his head. What the hell was he doing?

“This your boyfriend, faggot?” The bully spat, straightening out his hoodie after Virgil shoved him.

“No I'm not, but what the hell is your problem?” Virgil asked. He was taller than the bully, and tried to use that to his advantage, straightening out his posture, and rolling up his sleeves, in attempt to act the tough guy.

“Fags like you make me sick.”

“Don’t deep throat so far then.” Virgil replied as a wash of hot anger flooded over him, that word drove him up the wall, he couldn’t stand it.

But he didn’t have time to think before a sharp pain engulfed his nose, and he winced in pain, managing somehow not to cry out in agony.

The bully looked triumphant, for a second, before Virgil returned the favour, slamming his fist into the other boy’s cheek.

“Virgil Heart! With me. Nathair Lappin! With Mr Callender. Roman Prince, nurses office.” A classroom assistant shouted as he burst into the room in a blind panic, a student by his side.

The bully, Nathair, trudged off reluctantly. Virgil however, turned round to the bomber-jacket-guy, Roman. Offering him a hand up, seeing as his arm was injured.

It was nice to put faces to names.

“Thank you.” Roman spoke.

All Virgil could do was shrug as his adrenaline went from fight to flight and he had to restrain himself from collapsing on the floor in fear.

He’d just injured somebody.

The classroom assistant led him to the vice principal’s office, sitting him on a chair.

About five minutes of him squirming with anxiety in the chair, a very important looking man walked in through the door, handing him an ice-pack. “For your nose.” He told the boy, before taking a seat at his desk. “The office has phoned your emergency contact, it wasn’t your father correct?” He asked.

Virgil bit his lip, he wasn’t really used to thinking of Patton as his dad, but now was not the time to smile. “No, h-he’s at work. I-It’ll probably be Talyn.” Virgil stammered out.

“I see. You are aware of the trouble you are in, I hope. You assaulted another student.”

“In the defence of another and myself.” Virgil replied, gesturing to the ice-pack pressed firmly against his nose.

The VP ignored his comment, turning to his laptop. “The three of you are suspended for the rest of the school day, further punishment will be sorted tomorrow.”

“Roman did nothing wrong.”

“That’s as may be.”

Before Virgil could protest further, the door opened.

“Ah, Dr. Sanders, how can I be of service?” VP looked up, and Virgil immediately directed his gaze to his feet. Logan was his emergency contact? For crying out loud.

Logan cleared his throat, and Virgil could feel his gaze burning into him. “I’m here for Virgil. I was informed he was temporarily excluded and needed to be taken home.”

“Oh I see, well, Mr. Heart, you best be off.”

“Indeed, it is fortunate I have no classes after lunch.” Logan let out a small laugh, to assist his attempt at lightening the mood in the room. “Come on then Virgil.

Sighing to himself, he picked up his back, still staring at the floor, following Logan in a walk of shame.

He slumped against his seat in Logan’s car as they drove home, the school was a twenty-minute drive away, five of which had passed without a word spoken. He had his arm propped against the ledge of the door window, his face resting on his palm as he stared out of it.

“I’m sorry, Lo-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear a word until you can give me a reasonable explanation for your actions.” Logan snapped, his grip on the steering when had turned his knuckles white.

Virgil clenched his own fists, trying to steady himself. “You’re mad at me?” Why did everybody see him as the villain here? He wasn’t the bad guy.

“Furious.” Logan corrected. But his voice was unnervingly calm, nothing like when he argued with Patton.

“Why haven’t you hit me yet?” Virgil asked, his voice was shaking, and he couldn’t bear to even look at the older man.

Logan didn’t respond, as the car stopped, the engine still running. “You have a key, and I'm sure you can occupy yourself. Tell Patton if you wish, I won’t be informing him of this. I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow for school. Now I must get back.” His voice was stern and monotone, not at all like it was before, when he was bringing Virgil in this morning. There was no kindness anymore.

“I thought you had no more classes.” The younger boy replied, grabbing his bag from the footwell.

“That doesn’t mean I have no work to do, Virgil.” His voice was filled with spite, he made no eye contact with the younger boy.

Virgil got out of the car on shaking legs, he could only watch pathetically as Logan drove away.

He was _not_ about to cry.

“What the fuck have I done?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO HERES SOME TRIGGER WARNINGS
> 
> Vomiting  
> Mention of scars (not self harm)
> 
> also, idk if this would trigger people but i have virgil mention periods, i am aware that more than just girls get them. but for context, virgil is uneducated, he's only had acess to the internet for about three months. So he's not gonna know or be concerned/
> 
> (also,, further irl context, im a trans guy, so im not some random dickhead talking out my ass)  
> (i mean i am but y'know, not 100% this time)

When Patton came home Virgil was upstairs. In itself, that wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

But Carbon was still outside, that was strange. The house suddenly seemed bigger than it was, and eerily quiet, missing the TV blaring SCUZZ and the awkward finger guns the kid would shoot him when he walked through the door. He had a bright and cheery _hello_ stuck in his throat.

A hello meant for the kid who would be laying upside down on the couch, because he didn’t care what surface was a chair or not, or what the “correct” way to sit was. Despite Logan’s many protests.

The kid who wasn’t there this time.

His house was the way it was before. A barren mansion meant for more than one. Cold and unwelcoming, barely a home. The house he hated coming home to, the house he’d spent weeks in the bakery just to avoid.

Convincing Logan to move in, had never succeeded. He refused to explain why he wanted the other to join him.

Logan was the strongest person he’d ever met. Who was he to show weakness?

He tried telling himself that Virgil was probably just in his room, as he hung up his jacket, the kid might have had homework, now he was at school. But that didn’t seem to add up, it was only the first day.

Setting his things down on the breakfast bar, he opened the door for his dog, before sprinting up the stairs to find his son. Something was clearly off.

He knocked the door, there was no answer. He opened the door, there was no Virgil.

His fairy lights were off, the blinds open, the bed unmade and his Walkman laying on his pillow, untouched, the same classical music CD placed firmly in its hold. It seemed barren without him there, listening to it for the umpteenth time.

Patton had offered to get him more CDs, tried to give him the Beatles Greatest Hits album he had in his car, but Virgil always refused. He didn’t understand why.

Panic rose in his throat.

Logan would have told him if Virgil got a detention, he would have phoned if something went wrong, Patton would have _known_ if plans had changed.

Then a quiet sniff came from down the hall.

Patton let out a sigh of relief and felt his breathing steady out, before walking down the hall to the study.

Virgil was crying.

His hand was covering his eyes, the other hand was in his mouth, he was biting his index finger in an attempt to silence himself, it wasn’t working. Choked sobs forced their way from his lips, and it was clear he was struggling to breathe steadily.

Patton felt a pang of guilt and the wrenching of heartbreak as he watched this kid in anguish, a kid who’d potentially been like this for the past two hours. He’d been powerless to help.

“Kiddo?” Patton asked softly.

The teenager removed his hand from his mouth, wiping the spit on his jacket. He kept his eyes covered. “H-Hey P-Pat.” Virgil stammered out.

“Kiddo, what’s wrong?” He asked, walking slowly forward his hands out in front of him, palms facing forward, in order to prove his lack of malintent. Virgil didn’t respond but scrunched up his face even further as more choked cries fell from him.

Patton placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Kiddo, it’s just me, Patton. Look at me, Virge.” Virgil wasn’t having a panic attack, he was just crying. That was something that took Patton by surprise, because the kid never cried, not at books, not at songs, not at movies. Not even _Wall-E_!

Reluctantly, he removed his hand from over his eyes, they were glossed over, and red around the edges from his tears. But his nose was a gruesome mixture of blue and purple, slightly swollen, blood crusted around the edges.

“Oh, honey.” The older man felt his heart shatter and his blood boil, as he looked at his kid. “What happened?” He asked simply, almost demanding to know. Nobody was ever supposed to hurt Virgil ever again, he was meant to be safe here, with him.

“Logan hates me.” His voice was shaky. “The VP hates me, everybody _fucking_ hates me! I fucked it all up!” Gradually his voice rose, until he broke down again, placing his head in his hands.

Patton didn’t speak a word about the foul language this time.

“Whoah, whoah, _whoah_. Let’s slow down a second.” Patton crouched down, so he wasn’t towering over Virgil, sitting in the office chair. “I think, this requires some cocoa, and a soft seat.” He stood back up, watching Virgil carefully as the teen followed his lead, wiping his nose on his sleeve with a sniff. With a warm smile, Patton offered him his hand.

“I’m not a k-kid.” Virgil muttered, sniffing again, but he took Patton’s hand anyway.

Patton couldn’t help but roll his eyes, knowing it was helping.

A moment later, they were sat on the couch. Virgil's cocoa sat unnoticed on the coffee table, the teenager had his hood up and was trying to control a dog that was insistent on licking his face. At least it got him to smile.

“So, about everybody hating you?” Patton chuckled, Virgil didn’t. “Kiddo, you gotta tell me what happened, or I can’t help.”

“This kid, _Nathair_ , in the lunch room. He threw this other kid into a table, a-and he stood on his hand. Nobody moved, nobody cared, they all acted like it was commonplace! I wasn’t- I couldn’t- He was going to break his hand, Pat! I couldn’t just _watch_ it happen…” Virgil blurted out. “S-So, I shoved him away, to get him off it. He punched me… A-And I punched him back…”

“Is that why you’re so upset? It was an adrenaline rush kiddo, fight or flight, you couldn’t have helped it. You were sticking up for somebody.” Patton responded.

Virgil pulled his hood down, giving Patton an exasperated look. “No! Logan! He’s my emergency contact. He said he was _furious_ , Patton! And he wouldn’t let me apologise, o-or explain myself, or _anything_! He hates me…”

Patton rolled his eyes, and then frowned once more. “Logan… Like I said, he’s complicated. He doesn’t hate you, Virgil. He’s been _furious_ at me a thousand times and we’re still best friends.” The older man mate quotes with his fingers. “Its not my place to tell you how or why he feels, but I’m sure tomorrow he’ll explain himself. He always regrets being angry, but its not something he’s in great control of, no matter how much he thinks he is.” Patton offered a wink, and Virgil gave a dejected sniff before sticking his tongue out at the older man.   

“I figured you’d be mad at me.” He replied, his voice was quiet, and his sniffs were all but gone now. He’d picked up his cocoa, starting to drink it.

The older man bit his lip. “Honey, there’s a lot of feelings in this world, and in my heart, surrounding you. But _mad_ is never one of them.”

“I’m sorry.” Virgil's voice cracked, as he stared down into his mug. “You shouldn’t have to be stuck with me.”

“Have and want, Virge, have and want.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Virgil didn’t wake up to his alarm, he didn’t wake up to Patton's knock on his door, he didn’t wake up until Patton shook him gently, calling his name.

“Virgil! You okay? You don’t look too good.” Patton's voice finally fuzzed into coherent speech as he cracked open his eyes and groaned. Everything was tight and uncomfortable, his head hurt and his stomach was turning. How could he be hot _and_ cold at the same time?

“I don’t feel it either.” He croaked, startled almost at the sound of his own voice. The dim slivers of light crawling their way into his room from the blinds seemed to bright, and he could just about focus enough to see Patton sitting on the edge of his bed, looking concerned. Oh god, there was the pity look.

Patton winced, before placing a gentle hand against the teenager’s forehead. “Alright tough-guy, take it easy. You gotta fever for sure. I think this calls for a day off.” He spoke, getting up off the teenager’s bed.

“No! I can- I can go I just-“ Virgil panicked, he couldn’t miss his second day of school, he couldn’t let people think he was scared. Frantically he pushed himself up. Immediately regretting it, as his stomach shifted a turn for the worse. “Oh fuck.” He whispered, before pushing past Patton, dashing to the bathroom, retching into the porcelain.

The smell of the pungent acid alone was enough to set him off again. He choked out as much as he could, burning up his throat as he did so.

Fuck, that was nasty.

“Like I said, a day off.” Patton replied, his tone slightly more stern now, it wasn’t just a suggestion anymore.

“’M sorry.” Virgil replied, rinsing his mouth out with the sink faucet, swaying slightly on his feet as he stood up. “I didn’t mean to, I just…” His train of thought came off the rails and he pressed his hand against the wall, trying to steady himself.

Patton sighed. “One day you’ll catch a break, Kiddo.” He spoke softly, stumbling back when Virgil leant into him, his head at his chest, as he slouched. “C’mon tough guy, I’ll make up a bed on the couch. You and Carbon can have a sick day.” He rubbed Virgil's back, as the teenager moaned incoherent complaints into his polo shirt.

“I don’ wanna miss it.” Virgil sniffed miserably. “They already think I'm a bad kid, now they’ll think I'm skippin’.” He trailed after Patton as the older man made his way about the house, grabbing things for the make shift bed the sofa would be.

“I’ll call into the office, or I’ll get Logan to tell them.” Patton handed the teenager a pillow as he pulled various bedclothes from the airing cupboard. “And nobody thinks you’re a bad kid! You’re the best kid! And if I remember rightly, you said you _weren’t_ a kid.” Patton grinned, as Virgil groaned.

Eventually Patton had him on the sofa, the curtains shut, a pint of water on the coffee table, and an emergency sick bucket on the floor, in case he couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time. Carbon was at the other end of the couch, content to sit on his feet, quite excited that the stressed human was staying home again. The older man mentioned something about sticking the TV on to ease his anxiety, and that he’d wash Virgil’s bedclothes when he got back from work.

“I’ll make sure to call in on my lunch break, you want me to bring you anything?” Patton asked, gently brushing Virgil’s fringe out of his face.

“A hug?” Virgil replied weakly, he just wanted to go back to sleep, the faint hum of the TV show was lulling him into unconsciousness.

Patton laughed, ruffling the teenagers hair. “I’ll bring plenty. See you later kiddo, don’t wreck the place.” He joked, grabbing his coat.

“See ya, Dad…”  His voice was full of sickness and sleep, and then he was out like a light.

Then he was falling.

Because, of course, he was falling.

He was always falling.

He shot up like a light, his mouth dry and his throat raw. Carbon nudged him in the chest, allowing him to ground himself in his surroundings. The TV said he’d been asleep for barely an hour.

“Fuck.” He muttered, grabbing the glass of water downing half of it in an attempt to hydrate himself. Everything hurt, and he could swear his stomach was cramping.

“Girls deal with this shit every month, you can handle it once.” He muttered to himself, forcing himself up. If he couldn’t help himself he’d try to help someone else. So he checked that Carbon’s bowls were full, before stumbling up the stairs, with his ears ringing.

Showers were supposed to help pain. Right?

He leant against the shower wall. The cool tile a stark contrast to the water poured as it down on him. It was heavy, it grounded him, the heat seeped into his body.

For some reason something was wrong, he couldn’t tell what it was.

Virgil pulled at his own hair, as the water rinsed through it. He’d poured his heart out yesterday, releasing all the toxins he’d bottled up.

He shouldn’t be feeling like this. What was this feeling in the first place.

The shower suddenly felt to hard, too loud, to hot. He shut it off, trying to hold his breath to slow it down, knowing for a fact it wouldn’t work, but he needed something. Shaking, he sunk to the tiled floor, his knees hunched to his chin, shivering as the remaining water dripped down his back.

Then he screamed.

His throat was straining. But he screamed, yelling it out, every swear word he knew, incoherent nothing mixed in. He knew he’d regret it, the neighbours would call, his throat would be damaged, his voice was already starting to go.

But he screamed. And it felt good.

Then a knock on the door came, loud and urgent.

He froze, his blood turning cold. Was Patton home early? Christ he hoped not. Immediately he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his towel, wrapping it around his waist in a fit of blind panic.

“Hey kid! You okay in there?” It was Talyn. “Patty said you might want some company. I don’t wanna be charged for murder so make yourself seen!” They called, a yell that held no malice, he could practically hear the attempted smile in their voice.

Reluctantly he opened the door. The adult had green hair this time, changed since the multi coloured bob they had during Virgil’s last encounter. They were wearing their glasses, rather than the contacts he’d seen them in before.

“Hey Tal…”

“Oh god my innocence!” They cried, laughing as they jokingly covered their eyes. “I heard you screaming, you okay?” They asked, concern very present in their facial features, black lipped frown staring at him.

“’M fine…” He replied. “I gotta get clothes on y’know.” Immediately they laughed, moving out of the door frame.

He headed toward his room before a stunned gasp came from behind him, he stopped. Virgil spun around to see Talyn looking more concerned, if that was even possible.  

“What?” The teenager asked, folding his arms across his chest, suddenly feeling really self-conscious as they stared at him. A look on their face that could only be described as shock.

“Dude you have some crazy scars on your back.” They stated, as if Virgil didn’t know about the marks.

He resisted cringing. He’d almost forgotten they were there. Thinking about how it happened was one of his least favourite pass-times.  

“Yeah what about ‘em?” He asked, keeping his tone and expressions nonchalant.

They looked uncomfortable, and he regretted even acknowledging it. “They’re pretty bad kid, you sure you’re okay?” Virgil took a step back, turning around and heading to his room.

“They’re from years ago, it’s all good Tal.” Virgil lied through his teeth.

 


	9. Chapter 9

“So, what’s up? Clearly more than sickness if you’re screaming that bad.” Talyn asked, as Virgil came down the stairs. They were sitting on the sofa, scrolling on their phone while Carbon licked their hand, they glanced up and their look wasn’t a look of pity or sympathy, but concern.

Virgil shrugged in response, sitting on the sofa and wrapping his blanket around himself. He was wearing some plaid pyjama pants and an oversized polo shirt, it most likely belonged to Patton. The teenager wouldn’t have been surprised if it was put in his cupboard on purpose. But he was just glad to have something comfortable on his back.

Carbon made her way over to him, licking his face until he blocked her with his hand, calming her down, scratching behind her ears. He bet even she knew something was wrong.

Dogs were smart that way.

But truthfully he was using her as a distraction.

The scars lingered in his mind. He didn’t remember much of what they looked like, seeing them wasn’t an easy feat considering their position, he just knew he hated them. As if he wasn’t disgusting enough, there they were, staining his back with a dull pink splattering, coupled with grotesque lines of raised red.

They frightened people, invited pity and abuse.

He _hated_ having them there. He hated knowing they were there. He hated knowing _how_ they got there.

When he spent his first night on the streets of Lewisburg, another vagabond from the abandoned subway took his shirt from him, interestingly enough, they didn’t touch his backpack.

The scars were what got him his _friends,_ he supposed they felt bad for him. He was lucky to have packed another shirt. But then he got involved with the gang. And suddenly he felt he’d lost more than just a simple item of clothing.

They turned him into a liar.

Talyn rolled their eyes, pushing up their glasses. “Look, Virge. You can talk to me.” Their voice broke him from his thoughts and he glanced over at them.

They never really used his name, they called him _Kid_ even though they only had a five-year age gap, they were old enough to be Virgil’s older sibling. He supposed Patton wasn’t necessarily old enough to be his biological dad, but the point still stood in his head.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” Virgil spoke quietl, he couldn’t help but feel like everybody was treating him like a psychiatric patient. The mad-man who went apoplectic and punched a guy.

Nothing more than an animal, a liar, a fiend.

“We’re all crazy, kid. I don’t think any of us is normal.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Logan’s a hyper genius, me and Joan are hyper anxious, and Patton is… Well he’s a lotta things, _hyper_ in general. We’re not normal. I don’t think anybody is.” They offered a smile, Virgil couldn’t help but return it. “You wanna tell me why you were screaming?”

Did he? He could trust Talyn, he _knew_ that. But they were giving him the option. Did he want them to know? He supposed it might help, they wouldn’t tell Patton if he told them not to. “I don’t- I don’t really know. Everything just felt _too_ much, the shower was too _loud_ , the water was too _hot_ , and the tiles were too _cold_.”

“So, your solution was to scream? I thought you’d been murdered.”  Talyn laughed.

“It was more of a distraction than anything, it helped, believe it or not. But my throat hurts now.” Virgil let out a soft giggle, playing with his fingers, staring at his hands.

“I’m not surprised. I take it you don’t want me to tell Patton?” They asked, and he shook his head, unsure of whether they meant his scars or his screaming. Either way he’d prefer the older man to be ignorant to the subject. “Alright cool. You get panic attacks right?”

He froze. “How did you know that?”

Was he that easy to read? No, he couldn’t be, he’d had his entire life to try and hide it. Did Logan tell them? God, first he was mad and now he was spreading Virgil’s secrets? What a jerk…

Talyn rolled their eyes, as if they could read his thoughts. “Kid, Joan and I are the only other people you trust. Patton told us you have heightened anxiety, for the purely hypothetical situation we’d walk in on you screaming in the shower.” They laughed, but it wasn’t mean.

Patton told them? Must have been after he had the one behind his door. “Uhm, yeah, I guess I do.”

“Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, breathe out for eight seconds.” Virgil gave them a look of confusion. “It’s a technique used to steady breathing in panic attacks. It distracts your fight-or-flight.”

Fight? Or Flight? The adrenaline and the words, and the pain.

His fist.

“I fought.” Virgil blurted out before he could help himself. It took all his power not to immediately cover his mouth with his hand. As if that would physically prevent him from saying stupid things. He used to do it all the time, until the habit was beaten out of him. He wished he could say it was a metaphor.

“Huh?”

“Why I was screaming. I hit this kid, and Logan is mad at me. I thought I cried it all out, but I think it caught up.”

“Pent up anxiety, it’ll sneak up on you like that.” Their goofy personality had seemed to vanish. It almost hurt him to realise that they had experienced something similar, yet they were smiling and joking every day of their life. “But hold on a sec, you hit somebody?”

“Punched ‘em in the jaw. He almost broke my nose, so I figured it was a reasonable response. Everybody but Pat is treating me like the bad guy though.”

Talyn almost looked impressed, _almost._ “You hit him for a reason, I know you well enough to know that, so what _was_ the reason?”

“He was beating up this guy, he’s in my registration class. I couldn’t watch his hand get crushed. So, I shoved the guy away… I may have also offered some sarcasm. Which nearly got my nose broken.” He offered a sheepish smile, hunching his knees to his chest.

“Only you would.” Talyn laughed. “You _did_ hit him though, had you not, you’d be the hero, you can understand why they have to punish you for it.”

Virgil nodded. “I understand that, but I don’t get why Logan was so mad.”

“Was it screaming anger or completely calm anger?” 

The teenager smiled. “What an oxymoron?”

“ _Virgil_.” They warned, catching his attempt to change the subject.

“He was calm, visibly, except for his hands, he had an iron grip on the steering wheel.” Virgil replied, his shoulders raised slightly, as Logan’s stony expression and unnervingly calm voice, flashed through his head, growing louder the more he thought about it.

They nodded slowly, thinking. “I’ll talk to him later. Anyway, I gotta go back to the bakery.” They stood up abruptly, ruffling Virgil's hair despite his protests, before they headed to the front door, Carbon tailing after them. “See ya, Virge!” They called before the door clicked shut.

And here he was. Alone again, not taking carbon into account.

Suddenly the landline beeped, scaring the shit out of him. It was old fashioned, and still took voice recordings, it had a knew message. He picked up the phone piece, clicking the button.

Patton's garbled mechanical voice flowed out of the old speakers.

_“Feels good to get it all out, eh kiddo? I’ll see you when I get home. Love you!”_

“Patton Heart, you sneaky bastard.” He muttered.

Virgil wouldn’t admit it to anybody, but he had the biggest fucking grin on his face.

 

  ****

* * *

 

 

The car was silent.

Virgil's sickness had cleared up, Patton had brought him medicine and ice-cream when he got home. He said it was probably just a twenty-four-hour bug. Virgil was glad of that because another day in that house, bed-ridden, with only the dog and the TV to keep him company, would have driven him insane.

And now he was back in the car, with Logan.

Logan, who hadn’t said a word to him.

Logan, who he hadn’t even looked in the eyes yet.

Logan, who was very clearly tense with anger, or anxiety or _something._

The teenager was ready to tuck and roll, bored to tears staring out the window, saved only by the radio, when Logan switched it on.

He supposed the guy still had manners, at the very least.

Virgil wasn’t sure what he expected. An apology? Did he even deserve one? He was the one who made a mess of things. He at least expected a greeting or even a sign of _acknowledgement_.

They arrived at the school grounds, and without a word said both boys got out of the car, not a single sound between them. Virgil winced at the slam of the older man’s door, his shoulders tensing as thoughts went to unsavoury places. All he could do was walk in the opposite direction, to the asphalt they still called a “playground”, venturing into the sea of students, spread wide over the blacktop.

His shoulders slumped very quickly.

What a _great_ way to start the morning.

Backpack straps in hand, Virgil sat on the steps up to the entrance.

People watching calmed his nerves as much as it aggravated him. Staring at souls with hidden stains, hiding behind smiles and crinkled eyes, shining with laughter. It made him feel better. Knowing his stains were hidden just as much as theirs, under a dark brooding persona.

He now had a reputation here, he hit back, he fought. Now people should leave him alone. This wasn’t the way he planned to obtain solitude, but it would work none-the-less.

The last time he had _friends_ he ended up chucked on the side of the road with an empty bag and more scars than before.

He could live without anybody but his family.

Life on the streets made his hands calloused, his heart black, and his eyes watchful.

The bell rang out, a shrill ring, and he stood up, allowing his peers to file past him for a minute, before making his own way into the building.

“Hey!” A loud voice came from behind him, calling for somebody, slightly more prominent than any other. “Hey kid!” Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, and he spun around. Only to come face to face with the bomber-jacket-guy. This time not in a bomber-jacket, but in a red leather one.

“What?” Virgil replied, his tone unamused, before turning round to keep walking with the flow of students. The guy was in his registration class anyway.

“I just wanted to talk about Monday I-“

Then it hit him. This guy was probably furious, Virgil got him in trouble, made him the centre of attention and made his bully even more angry than before. Oh fuck, he was in serious trouble. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in the spotlight or get you in trouble, I just didn’t want that- that _dick_ to seriously injure you. Okay? I’m sorry.” Virgil blurted out, his tone was sour. He was not in the mood for anything right now.

The bomber-jacket-guy only gave him a look of confusion and a nervous laugh. “I was going to thank you actually. You saved my skin, Grandpa would’a killed me if I went home with _another_ thing broken. So, uh, yeah, thanks. You’re Virgil right? I’m Roman, Roman Prince.”

Virgil was stunned. “Oh.. Yeah, Heart- Virgil Heart. You’re welcome I guess.” He nearly cringed visibly, that was all he could come out with? Really?

“You wanna sit with me in homeroom? I don’t have many friends. Nathair kinda ruined my social status.” Roman smiled at him, he seemed not to care about the bully. “There’s just me, and Remy sits beside me at lunch. Until I got shoved into a table. He went to get the staff.”

“Uh sure, that sounds fine.” Virgil replied.

Roman laughed lightly. All that happiness had to be compensating for something. “Cool. Are you _actually_ related to Mrs Torres? She used to be a Heart you know.” He replied matter-of-factly.

“Not to my knowledge. Why? Butthurt that she disproved your theory?” Virgil rolled his eyes, letting a smile creep on to his face as Roman let out an offended huff. “Well, hate to break it to you Princey, but now I have too.”

“Alright you wanna start nicknames Heart- _less_?” Roman replied, a grin plastered on his features, Virgil could tell he liked the nickname he’d been given.

They walked into the classroom, along with the rest of the students, and he could have sworn that the teacher gave him a wink. He took his seat beside Roman. He quickly clasped his hands and focused on them, tracing the lines where his fingers met his knuckles.

“So, where did you go before you came here? I haven’t seen you around town at all.” Roman asked, leaning back in his chair, as Virgil turned in his seat to look at him.

Virgil froze, trying not to make it noticeable, how was he supposed to answer that question? “Oh, uhm, I lived up north, in Maine.” Virgil replied.

“Why’d you move?” Roman asked.

Virgil’s imagination, cried for help, what excuse could he give? “Why d’you ask so many questions?” He retorted, sarcasm was easier than lies. He’d never lived in Maine, he’d never even been there.

“Don’t blame a curious mind.” Roman grinned.

Virgil rolled his eyes, something he seemed to be doing quite a bit in the company of this boy. But for once it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, accompanied by a smile rather than a scowl. “I could never! _But_ for a mind to be curious it would imply that you have one.”

“Burn!” A voice came from behind.

Roman turned beetroot ret, but he was laughing, Virgil hadn’t offended him, thank god. “You’ve got a quick tongue, Charlie Frown, surprising considering your lack of sleep.”

Virgil quirked up an eyebrow, confused. “My lack of sleep?” He’d actually gotten a decent amount of rest that night, all things considered. He wouldn’t have, if he had’ve known how Logan would respond to his presence the next morning.

“You look like a raccoon with eyebags like that.” Roman replied, as the bell rang again, standing up, Virgil following closely behind.

He supposed that they wouldn’t go away with one night of decent rest.

“I’m not in your next class I don’t think, so I’ll see you at lunch?” Roman asked, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.

Virgil nodded, shouldering his backpack, his fists closing around the metal buckles. The cool touch calming him. Patton bought him the bag in replacement for his old one, it was nicer by far. The buckles had been replaced with the metal ones, and Virgil had no doubt in his mind that Logan was the one behind that choice.

The man had been friends with two anxious beings for a while. Joan and Talyn. He supposed it was best for him and as much as the coolness of the metal eased his nerves. It left a sour taste in his mouth knowing how quickly Logan could snap and reconnect.

“Mr Heart? Can I have a word?” Mrs Torres’ voice came from behind, accompanied by a gentle tap on the shoulder. Not enough to threaten but enough to startle him.

He didn’t like being tapped or poked or grabbed or nudged from behind. It was his worst trigger, his worst fear.

He spun around quickly, to face her. He was taller than he by a long shot, but it didn’t help his fear. She was an authority, and that always scared him, too intense, too much pressure.

“Uhm, how can I help you?” He asked her.

She sat at her desk again. “I wanted to talk about Monday.”

Immediately Virgil sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d had enough of explaining the story _and_ of being reprimanded for it. He knew it was wrong, he’d taken the punishment, enough was enough.

“I _wanted_ to say, that I was impressed. It took a lot of courage, especially from someone new. Roman has been tormented beyond belief by that boy. _Finally_ , he has somebody to stick up for him.”

Once again, he was taken aback.

“I- uh- Thank you?” It sounded more like a question than a response, but he couldn’t think of anything better to say.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Get to class, kiddo.”

Virgil offered her a small smile back, before pushing the door open, back into the sea of students, heading towards his math class.

“Oh boy…”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me at least two days to finish, I hope you enjoy it, it's the tenth so I thought to make it memorable. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS
> 
> prevalent use of homophobic slurs (specifically the f word)   
> mentions of suicidal thoughts
> 
> don't worry I make up for the angst in the second half

The next few days were the same.

Logan wouldn’t speak a word to him, gave him the cold shoulder in lessons (Virgil never raised his hand anyway but that wasn’t the point) and was silent on the way home.

It was tiring.

He’d wake up, feel anxious, eat lunch with Roman, feel anxious, and then do something with Patton, when he got home from work. It was routine at this point. It wasn’t a very pleasant routine, but it was one nonetheless.

That was until Friday afternoon.

Logan missed the turn onto baker street.

He didn’t turn around, or grunt in annoyance at his mistake.

It _wasn’t_ a mistake.

Virgil’s mind was racing, he wasn’t sure how stable Logan was, he didn’t know if Logan would hurt him or not, he didn’t know what was happening. He knew that Logan was smart, he’d be good at hiding, and he’d be an excellent murderer, his degree in human anatomy would serve its purpose if those were his intentions.

His breathing quickened, his clasp around the door handle tightened, as he felt his heart hammering in his skull.

Tuck and roll, Virgil, tuck and roll.

No, no, Logan wouldn’t do that. He cared about Patton far too much. Slow your roll, he cursed himself for even thinking such vile things. Patton loved Logan for a reason, he must have had some sort of understanding that Virgil didn’t.

“We’re going home.” Logan spoke. His voice wasn’t the monotone spite it had been on Monday. It was calm, collected, filled with kindness.

Logan was back.

“I didn’t ask.” Virgil replied, glancing at him. His grip on the wheel was easy, no strain, his shoulders were lax, and his posture was proper.

Logan smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “You _thought_ , you’ve _been_ thinking, its annoying.”

“What do you mean _home_?” The teenager replied, Logan didn’t know he was homeless, would he try and bring him back to foster care? Was Patton giving him back?

Oh god. He felt sick.

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle at the sheer terror written in the teenager’s voice. “Apologies, _my_ home. I have to get something before we go to Patton’s. But you have questions, so, ask them.”

“Why are you going to Patton’s?” He tried not to sound rude but Logan had been ignoring him for almost a week, _that_ was rude.

“He was insistent that we all have a movie night, the three of us.” Logan smiled, pushing his glasses up.

He’d parked his car outside a worn-down grey-brick apartment building.  Virgil grabbed his backpack, following Logan into the building.

“Four, counting Carbon.” Virgil reminded him, considering he was the one that got Carbon in the first place.

The older man nodded, a small smile present on his face. “Of course.”

The elevator came a few moments after Logan pressed the button, he gestured for Virgil to step in first. “Why were you so mad at me?” Virgil’s second question fell from his lips before he could stop it, he really should learn to think before he speaks.

“I will explain after you do. Why did you hit him?”

Virgil could have groaned out loud. Why was this man so pedantic? Who answers an important question with another question? “He hit me first.” He replied simply, knowing that would anger Logan just as much.

Logan sighed, and Virgil smirked. “Yes, _great_ reasoning, we’re all blind now. There’s more to it than that.”

The teenager rolled his eyes with an exasperated huff. He was sick of telling this story. “He was pushing Roman about, shoved him into a table, stood on his hand- he was going to _break_ it Logan! He called him gay, called him…” Virgil paused, biting his lip. “He called him a _faggot_. If that was _Patton_ you would’ve done something, don’t lie to me, you would have!”

If he said no, Virgil would be thinking twice about wanting Patton to date him.

Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well of course, but-“ The elevator doors opened, and Logan immediately went to 27-A, unlocking the door, before pushing it open, allowing Virgil to go first.

The apartment was drab. It was dark, small and barely furnished. The kitchen seemed to have never been used, the couch was worn, and the coffee table appeared to be second-hand and held together by superglue, and that was it. No table, no chairs, no television, nothing. There didn’t even appear to be a bulb in the light fixture.

It was just like his old house.

His shoulders tensed, he could feel the biting draft that used to flow through the broken window, he could smell the curdled milk scent from when Sammy vomited on the carpet, he could hear the chatter of his siblings. The yelling of his “parents” rang in his ears, their insults, and screams of anger as they fought with one another. His siblings used to jeer at him when he wanted to join in, he was an outcast even to them.  

“You have words, make your observations.” The older man spoke, he was behind Virgil, which made his skin crawl, the thoughts of murder still writhing through his mind. He knew fine rightly it was ridiculous, but anxious minds have ridiculous thoughts.

He was getting tired of it.

“Is this like a test or something?” The teenager turned around to look at him. Trying to disguise it as social etiquette and not a check for murderous intent. 

Logan laughed, not in a mean way. “I’m a teacher, it’s my thing.”

“Its cheap accommodation, that’s barely furnished. The fridge handle is untouched, as are the cupboards, you don’t make food, or store it.” Virgil paused, glancing at Logan who nodded for him to continue. “Your sofa is the one thing that’s worn, you sleep on it presumably. And you don’t do work here as shown by the light.” The teenager bit his lip. This didn’t seem to add up, he shouldn’t be living like this. It didn’t make sense for him to.

“Right well. I suppose I should explain then, sit on the couch, I have teabags somewhere, I’ll get you something.” Logan replied.

Confused, Virgil sat down, setting his bag on his lap, hugging it to his chest. He wondered if Patton was wondering where he was? Logan had probably told him.

He had homework to do before movie night, he hoped Logan would make it quick.

“So,” Logan began, handing Virgil a mug, sitting himself on the coffee table, something he definitely wouldn’t have done anywhere else. “You want to know why I was so angry, don’t you?”

Virgil nodded, trying not to burn his tongue as he took a sip from his mug.

“I’ll make it quick, I know you’d rather be at home.” He smirked into his mug before taking a sip himself. “I was born into a family who weren’t ready for me, and they spent my life pushing me, so I could get them out of the situation I _supposedly_ put them in. As if them lacking the logic to use a condom is _my_ fault somehow.”  He smiled sadly.

“I could multiply by age five. I knew the dictionary by heart by the time I was ten, I was doing advance calculus at thirteen. I wanted to kill myself by then.” Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, this wasn’t Logan bragging, he was… _Ashamed_?

“I was assigned to be Patton's tutor, for extra credit, he was struggling with math.”

“He said he liked math?” Virgil interjected.

Logan grinned. “He did after _I_ tutored him. Do you remember when he called me Sherlock?” Virgil nodded. “To me that’s the equivalent of calling me faggot. It was my nickname throughout middle-school and into high-school. At first I kind of liked it, but even now it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I got bullied, they called me a robot, they beat me up to see if I could even feel pain. Patton was the first person to treat me like a human, to make me happy. I figured that anger and sadness were all I had. He proved me wrong. He didn’t magically whisk away what was wrong with me, but he eased it.” He laughed sadly.

“A similar event occurred. Some fucking assholes targeted Pat, because he’s my friend. They used the dreaded _f_ word, and kicked him in the balls, because _if he was gay he didn’t need kids,_ fucking reprobates.” Logan muttered, rolling his eyes. “The guy who did it ended up with a broken arm. If it weren’t for my Father’s threats to the principle, I would have lost everything.”

Virgil's eyes widened. Logan was like him. He didn’t have the words to speak, the older man looked like he had more to say anyway.

“Do you know _why_ Patton took you in?” Logan asked, making eye contact with the teenager.

Virgil bit his lip. “He likes to help people. He sees those in need and gives them _what_ they need. I needed a home, he wanted a kid, it was a win-win.”

“Partially yes.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “It’s because you remind him of me. But after I met you for the first time, and after you forgave me, even though I caused you hurt, I thought that you weren’t just _like_ me, I thought you were better. Suddenly you hit that kid and all those memories came flooding back. I had no right to be mad, but I was. I’m sorry for that. But, you _are_ better than that. You have my logic and deduction. But you have Patton’s empathy and kindness. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were his biological child.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all the teenager could even think to say. “I wish I could take it back. But it was fight or flight. I couldn’t stand there.”

“I understand. You did what you thought was right.” Logan nodded, offering a smile. Virgil frowned.

“Logan, you don’t have to smile and act like you’re okay. Reliving memories is painful, I don’t have the nicest past either.” Logan let out a bitter laugh at his words, taking off his glasses to clean them, even though they were immaculate. He wanted a distraction, now he was at a loss for words. “I’m not Patton but uh, if you want a hug?” Virgil didn’t finish the question, trailing off as he realised how ridiculous it must have sounded coming from him.

“Yes, that would be nice. Did you know that hugs can calm anxiety?” Logan replied, maybe spouting facts was a coping mechanism, Virgil couldn’t tell.

As expected his hug was different to Patton’s or Talyn’s. Virgil was willing to bet that Joan’s would be similar though. He was rigid at first, taller than Virgil by a head. But he adjusted his position to hug the teenager properly.

 It was encasing but not suffocating. It had an odd warmth to it but not the same degree of emotion that Patton’s did. He felt safe.

 “I must say it is quite impressive for somebody with our disorder. I’m proud.” Logan spoke quietly.

“Thank you.” Virgil's voice was quiet. It was a lot to process.

He wasn’t alone anymore. Logan was just like him.

Before he realised it, the older man had taken the mugs off the coffee table, tossing them in the sink before grabbing his messenger bag. He gestured for Virgil to follow him as he opened the front door.

It wasn’t until they got to Logan’s car that Virgil managed to say anything.

“Your parents still take money off you, don’t they? You’re a New York Times best seller, you shouldn’t be living in an apartment like that.”

Logan laughed. “Clever boy. They leave me just enough to pay my bills. I eat school meals, and the food Patton insists on giving me. He doesn’t know they still do it, but he suspects it, so he always makes me extra.”

Virgil was silent for a moment before he chose to speak up again. “Hey Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?” Logan mimicked his tone.

The teenager smirked. “I’ll give you an ultimatum. Tell my Dad you’re in love with him by the end of the month, or I will do it for you. You can hide it from him but not from me.” He proposed, his tone as innocent as possible, almost musical.

“Clever boy.” Logan muttered. “Too fucking clever.”

 

****

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey, Dark Knight!” Roman’s voice echoed through the halls as Virgil was about to walk out of the building.

School was over, and everyone was leaving, eager to get home, get their work done and relax. Virgil was amongst those people. The plan was to get his work done, walk Carbon to the bakery and walk back to the house with Patton once his shift ended.

It was a few weeks after Logan had apologised for the second time. School was running smoothly, his classes were going well, and he hadn’t missed a homework yet. He, Logan and Patton were getting along, and the three of them, along with Joan and Talyn made effort to hang out as a group once a week.

Life was running as it should. Virgil was content.

But of course, the world would never offer Virgil convenience.

He turned around to face the Prince, who had reached him by this point.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets, an eyebrow raised. “How can I be of service Sir Sing-a-lot?” He asked, as they proceeded out the doors. Logan would be waiting for him in the parking lot, and to his knowledge Roman’s Grandma picked him up.

Roman grinned. “I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out?”

“Hang… Out?” Virgil questioned. Nobody other than Patton had ever really wanted to spend time with him _willingly_. He figured Roman only sat beside him because he knew Virgil would protect him if it was needed.

“Yeah, like friends do.” Roman smiled, his perpetually confident demeanour radiating from him, as his deep brown eyes stared into Virgil’s own.

Virgil shrugged, trying to play it casual. He’d never been _wanted_ before. “You mean now?”

“Today, yeah. There’s a movie out I wanna see. I think you’d like it.” Roman replied. Virgil supposed Patton would be cool with it, he _did_ say he wanted Virgil to make friends. “It starts at eight, so I’ll pick you up around seven sometime?”

The emo boy smirked. “You don’t know where I live.” He was startled when Roman thrust his phone into Virgil’s hands. Nervously he stopped walking as he typed out the street name and number. Handing it back before he broke it. He didn’t have a phone, highly convinced he didn’t need one.

“So, you’re going?”

Shrugging again, Virgil offered a nod. “Yeah, sure.”

The emo could have laughed at the look of pure glee that took over Roman’s face. “Great! I’ll see you then.” He replied before running off toward his ride.

Shaking his head Virgil opened the door to Logan’s car. The teacher gave him a look of intrigue.

“What was that about?”

“Roman asked if I wanted to hang out, we’re going to see a movie later.” Virgil replied, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. He wouldn’t ever tell the Prince, but he did enjoy his company. It was nice to have somebody who talked as much as he didn’t.

Logan smirked, a habit he and Virgil shared, along with sarcasm and swearing. “Sounds like a date to me.”

Virgil spluttered. “Wh-What? _No_. Its just hanging out, y’know, like friends do.” He quoted Roman’s words, they were just friends, the prince had been sure to clarify. Besides, despite Nathair’s insistence on the matter, Virgil didn’t even know if Roman _was_ gay.

He didn’t know if he was either but that was besides the point.

“I’m sure.” Logan replied, sarcasm dripping from the words.

Well Virgil was about to douse his fire. “Speaking of dates. You haven’t asked my dad out. September is nearly over, Logan.” He spoke in the sing-song voice he knew got on Logan’s nerves.

“I-I’ve been busy, with, marking and, uh, school things.” Logan stammered. Virgil smirked at the redness on his cheeks.

The teenager smiled innocently, and the adult glared at him. “Excuses. There’s a new restaurant open, I see it when I'm out on walks. Pat’s been talking about going. You should take him.” He gave Logan a legitimate smile, as he stopped the car outside Virgil's house.

“Maybe. You have that math homework right? Call me if you need assistance.” Logan replied, ruffling the teenager’s hair much to his annoyance.

“Will do, Logo. Smell ya later.” Virgil replied, shutting the door, before walking up the driveway. “Its not a date, is it?” He asked himself as he opened the door.

Carbon jumped up at him, so he let her out.

His math homework went fairly smoothly, he’d been working extra at it to try and impress Patton and Logan.

Carbon always got excited when he got out her leash, it was turquoise and tartan, her collar was navy, but she didn’t have it on that often, usually only for walks.

Walking her was the best part of his day. It was calming to just walk and smell the air and hear the sounds of this little town. It was also really fulfilling to have a dog so happy to be outdoors, tugging on the leash, wagging her tail, overjoyed to be outdoors.

He tied her leash around a metal bar screwed into the side of the door way, it was for umbrellas and dog leads, Patton had it put there a while ago. He liked to look out for everyone.

“Hey kid!” Talyn greeted him with a hug, not able to hug him properly as their hands were covered with flour. “Patty! Virge is here.”

There were a few customers, it was past the lunch rush so not many were there, an old couple sharing a coffee and some scones, and a younger man, listening to music through bright yellow headphones as he worked on his laptop.

Patton came out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron, he always washed them after working with food.

“Hey dad.” Virgil greeted the older man, reciprocating the hug Patton gave him.

Patton smiled at him. “How was school kiddo?” He asked, picking up the young man’s empty plate, giving him a nod as he asked for another coffee.

“It was fine. Roman asked if I wanted to go to the movies later. Is that okay?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t entirely sure how Patton would react. He figured he’d be happy about it, he was telling him to make friends. But maybe he’d think it was a date like Logan did, and get defensive.

Parents did that, didn’t they?

Instead Patton just nodded as he walked back around the counter. “What’s he like? You’ve never mentioned a Roman before.”

“Oh uh, he’s in my homeroom. He’s quite funny actually, annoying sometimes, but I like talking to him.” Virgil replied, and Patton grinned.

“Is he tall, dark and handsome too?” Talyn asked, with a giggle as they walked back into the main kitchen to put whatever they were making into the proving drawer.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Ignore them, they’re kidding.” Patton spoke up, setting down coffee at one of the tables. “How are you gonna get to the theatre.”

“Roman said he’d pick me up.”

“He drives?” Patton asked, a surprised look on his face.

Virgil laughed. “No! He’s my age. I think his parents are gonna bring us.”

The older man seemed somewhat relieved, before telling the remaining customers that the shop was closing up.

“No problem Kiddo, you don’t mind if Logan comes round? He texted me about doing something.” The older man replied taking off his apron. Virgil tried to hide his smirk, for once the teacher was listening to him.

“Nah that’s cool.” The teenager replied as the three of them walked out the door, to be greeted with a very excitable Carbon. “See you later, Tal!” Virgil called out as they started to walk home.

“This isn’t a date is it?” Patton asked out of nowhere and Virgil choked.

“What? No- I mean- I don’t think so.” Virgil replied, he could feel his ears burning. He’d had his hair cut recently, and the sides were shaved in an effort to be trendy, so he couldn’t hide be hand the shoulder length mess he used to.

The older man laughed a little. “You’re flustered. It is a date then.” He spoke triumphantly, and the teenager clenched his hoody sleeves in his fist.

“He didn’t say it was specifically. So, I dunno. We’re just two dudes hanging out like friends.”

“Never say the word _dude_ again.”

“Do you think I'm uncool? Does my swag-bro aura embarrass you Daddio?” Patton shoved Virgil lightly as the teenager elbowed him.

“Roman certainly won’t be swooning.” Patton stuck his tongue out at the teenager who rolled his eyes.

As far as he was concerned, and as far as he desired, he and Roman were just friends. That was clear enough and that was what he wanted. Cut and dry.

Yet for some inexplicable reason, Virgil found himself panicking as he was getting ready.

Would ripped jeans and a t-shirt be too casual? Would a shirt be too formal?

Why had nobody versed him in the etiquette of hanging out with people. More importantly why the hell was he worrying about his appearance? He’d been a _vagabond_ , living on the street, he’d been given every dirty look there was to receive. His appearance had never been a priority, not dying of hypothermia or starvation always came first.

So, _why_. Did. He. Care?

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. He’d settled for his purple flannel and a plain black t-shirt underneath, along with a pair of _purposely_ distressed jeans. Unsurprisingly, they were a gift from Talyn. Virgil had never understood the desire for holes to have clothes, but he did have to admit he felt badass wearing them. His Doc Martins were tied to perfection and he had a twenty-dollar bill tucked safely in his breast pocket.

Patton laughed as Virgil sat on a breakfast bar stool, biting his thumb as he jittered his knee up and down.

“Shut up, I’ve never hung out with anybody before.” Virgil snapped, glaring at Patton, who only shrugged.

“Just have fun.”

As if on cue a knock at the door sounded.

“Don’t make a sound until I say goodbye.”

“Are you embarrassed of me Virgey?” The older man replied, placing a hand on his heart, faking a hurt expression.

Rolling his eyes Virgil went to answer the door, pulling it open to reveal the Prince. He was wearing a leather jacket, it had stars on the arms, his t-shirt had a star on the chest and he was wearing black jeans as well.

“Dr Gloom, you just gonna stare at me or?”

“Oh yeah sorry. Bye Dad!” Virgil called back into the house, before shutting the door, and walking down the path alongside Roman.

“Your house is nice.” The other boy commented, opening the backseat car door for Virgil to get in.

“What a gentleman.” Virgil responded, shuffling over to the far side as Roman got in beside him. There was a distinct lack of a middle seat, leaving their legs pressed together.

The driver was older than fifty, older than Virgil expected, clearly a grandparent. She had plastic rimmed glasses, on a chain, and her greying hair was styled in a bob, framing her face. She gave Virgil a nod and a smile through the rear-view mirror before they started off. “I’ve certainly tried to keep him well-mannered.” She chuckled, and Virgil smiled, she seemed nice, trustworthy almost.

“I _am_ well mannered.” Roman replied, a joking scowl sent in her direction. “Grammy, this is Virgil, Virgil this is my Grandma.”

“Nice to meet you Mrs Prince.” Virgil spoke, slightly unsure.

She laughed again. “Oh, I’m not a Prince sweetheart. The names Claire, Claire Downing. I’m from Ro-Ro’s Mother’s family.” Virgil laughed at the nickname, trying to disguise it as a cough. “So Virgil, quite an exotic name.”

“Quite eccentric.” Roman added. Which was his passive aggressive way of calling it weird.

“Yeah, Virgil Heart, I would tell you my middle name if I had one.” He smiled, fiddling with his fingers, trying to distract himself from how confined the space was.

“I knew a Heart, Patty we called him, I taught him until he moved away from Jersey. Good kid.” Claire spoke, her speech somehow relieved the awkward tension in the air.

The car door shut with a slam, after a cheerful “Have fun!” From Claire. Virgil smiled, she was similar to Patton in many ways. He really was like a grandma. He made a note-to-self about suggesting that Patton start a knitting club at the bakery.

He ended up in a crowded theatre. They’d got good seats, Roman said his Dad had been friends with the owner, so he always got good seats for the films he requested. Virgil bought the refreshments, refusing no for an answer, he liked to be equal.

It was an action movie; besides Disney, Virgil would’ve expected nothing less.

What he didn’t expect was Roman crying into his shoulder when one of the main characters died. So unsure, he wrapped an arm and rubbed the other boy’s back in an attempt to be soothing. Something about it felt nice to him. He didn’t enjoy seeing his friend cry, but he knew they were over fantasised sadness, and once they left the theatre, everything would be alright again. He repeated that over and over again in his head to avoid a potential panic attack.

“I had a nice time.” Virgil said, as Roman walked him to the front door. “I’ve never hung out with anyone before.” He added, if a little embarrassedly.

“Thanks for joining me. You liked the look of that Marvel film right? I’ll get us tickets for next week.” Roman grinned.

Virgil tried to expect the unexpected. But given the name it was _unexpected._

So, when Roman pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his face, he froze.

The car had driven off by the time he snapped back into reality enough to realise he was still standing outside.

Sighing to himself he opened the door.

Somehow there was more yet to be unexpected.

There was Patton and Logan, laying on the couch, Logan's head rested firmly on Patton's chest and their hands intertwined.

Virgil smiled, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the new couple.

His feelings could wait for the moment.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of suicide, mentions of abuse
> 
> this chapter is a fuckin rideee
> 
> also, potty mouth logan.

Logan had texted him and told him to dress nice. So, he was wearing a pale blue, triangle patterned button-up with a navy collar, and probably the only pair of jeans that hadn't been covered in flour. He’d polished his dress shoes and styled his hair for once.  

Virgil had gone out, the _one_ time the kid leaves the house, and that’s the time Patton needed a second opinion.

He was quite pleased that Virgil had gone out, it was about time he made a friend. Patton hadn’t heard much, but from the way he talked about this _Roman_ character, he seemed nice enough. Hopefully he was a good friend, potentially more, depending on what way Virgil went when it came to dating. They hadn’t had _the talk,_ but Patton didn’t really feel like they needed to. Virgil was fourteen, he’d read Logan’s books, he knew it all. Besides, Patton himself was gay, Virgil knew if he came home to introduce a boyfriend, girlfriend or otherwise, the baker wouldn’t care, if they were nice.

He ended up leaning against the breakfast bar, biting the tip of his thumb as he waited, jittering his knee. He kept glancing in the direction of the door, trying to distract himself with his phone but to no success.

Virgil had started to call it gay-panic. Whilst it made Patton laugh, he tended to flush because he knew more than anyone that it was true. He was nervous around Logan, scared he’d slip up and Logan would know. Conscious of how long he glanced at the teacher, trying not to stare because those were the things that Logan picked up on.

Logan never mentioned how nice to dress, he went with what he deemed smart-casual and prayed that it would be nice enough.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he was so nervous. He’d gone out to eat with Logan many times before. Then again he had been nervous, but at that point he was still in college and living with Talyn who styled his every outfit. He was apprehensive to call them, not wanting to be a bother.

Before he could take it back, a sharp knock on the door sounded. Three, the magic number, Logan’s favourite number. He’d been devastated when he learned that Patton’s house was number _four_.

Patton opened the door and his breath caught in his throat. There was Logan, in a tight-fitting black button up, with a deep blue waist-coat over top. Literally breath-taking, as it took the baker a moment to realise he wasn’t breathing properly.

“You look nice.” Logan spoke up, as he started driving.

The compliment took Patton off guard, the teacher never really commented on appearance unless it was a flaw, that could be easily fixed, like _your fly is undone,_ or _your collar is upturned._ “I thought we didn’t appreciate appearance, we appreciate personality.” Patton replied, quoting Logan on something he’d said to Patton in the past.

“And I thought we tell people they’re beautiful because it’s nice.” Logan quipped back, smiling when Patton glared at him. He was always right.

“Well yeah but-“

“You’re beautiful.” The teacher said simply, pushing up his glasses.

Patton flushed red immediately. He never went on dates, so the only real compliments he was ever given were from Talyn or Joan. Somehow it meant a lot more coming from Logan. “Are you saying that to be nice or because you believe it?”

“Why not both? It’s a nice gesture isn’t it?” Logan replied. “You, Patton Heart, are very beautiful. You _know_ I wouldn’t spout falsehoods.”

“You look amazing. Blue suits you.” Patton noted, attempting to disguise the red of his face by adjusting his glasses.

Logan smiled, as much as he deemed them pointless, Patton knew he liked compliments. “That’s why my ties are. Thank you.”

“Where are we going?”

“There’s this restaurant, it’s fairly new, but I’ve heard it’s good.” Logan replied.

Patton nodded slowly. Logan was a man of patterns, he had an _if it ain’t broke don’t fix it_ mentality. Maybe Patton had mentioned it to him, he was interested in the new restaurant, Logan probably knew, or he probably read his features.

Logan switched on the Radio, guitar riffs and yelled lyrics, flooding from the speakers. The CD was one from when they were teenagers, he was probably showing Virgil at some point. Patton remembered forcing Logan to dance around his bedroom as they took a quick break from studying. He smiled softly, humming the familiar tune.

Virgil and Logan had been getting along recently. It was clear to see something positive had resolved between the two. It made him happy to see his boys get along. He’d come home the other day to see Logan leaning over him, helping him with his math homework and he could’ve cried

They got to the restaurant and were seated quickly.

“So, Virgil seems to be doing well.” Logan spoke, as they waited for their order.

Patton smiled. “Yeah, he’s a great kid, he’s out at a movie today.” The baker replied, twisting the drinks menu between his fingers. “Some kid called Roman invited him. I was kinda worried he wouldn’t make friends.”

“Roman Prince, he’s a good kid. He and Virgil sit together at lunch.” Logan commented, giving a smile and a nod to the waitress as she set down their drinks. He usually wasn’t this amiable, and by the way he was jittering his knee and adjusting his tie, Patton could tell something was off.

Often times he played a part, he acted _normal_ when he was feeling anxious. But Logan acting like a people pleaser, like everyone expected, like he was _supposed_ to act, was anything but normal.

He was nervous, or stressed, or anxious. Reading body language wasn’t Patton’s thing, he couldn’t tell which of the three it was.

“What’s with the fancy business? And all the affection? We usually just get Pizza.” Patton asked.

Logan coughed, pushing his glasses up. “I thought it would be nice to check out the new place. Virgil mentioned you were interested.”

“I can make deductions too, Owl. Somethings up, why are you anxious?” The baker replied, noticing the bright red tint on the teacher’s ears.

“Do you want to go? I’d rather not tell you here, if you want we can get take out afterwards.” Logan replied, avoiding eye contact with Patton, which confused him, Logan never usually acted like this, he couldn’t for the life of him work out what was wrong.

Patton nodded, waiting outside as Logan payed for their drinks. “Should’ve brought a coat.” The baker muttered to himself, wrapping his arms around his torso.

“We should walk.” Logan spoke as he walked outside.

The baker shoved his hands in his pockets. Keeping pace with Logan, who was slightly taller than him, nearly everyone was, but he didn’t mind. Talyn said it added to how cute he was, so he took it in his stride. They never said a compliment if they didn’t believe it to be true.

“Virgil is a smart kid. He, like me makes deductions.” He coughed, cleaning his glasses. “I’m in love with you.”

Patton froze. Time seemed to stop as he stopped walking. Sound vanished from his ears as his heart hammered in his head. He could feel himself shaking and suddenly Logan's hands were on his face, cold against his skin, as his cheeks flushed bright red.

“Are you alright? Bear, please, answer me. I'm sorry if that startled you, have I miscalculated?” Logan’s voice broke through and he snapped into focus, dark brown serious eyes staring into his own.

His voice was barely a whisper and he cursed himself as he felt tears dripping down his cheeks. “I-I love you too.” Patton stammered out. “For ages- I just- you didn’t-“ To his great surprise Logan pressed his lips against Patton's own.

It was gentle and unsure, Logan wasn’t one for human contact in general, so this was definitely a huge step for him, but Patton gripped Logan’s tie and pulled him closer. He’d been waiting for this kiss since he was about fifteen, and it was finally happening.

Logan laughed softly, wiping the tears off Patton’s cheeks. “You’re beautiful Patton Heart.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It took a while for Virgil to get used to Logan living with them. He wouldn’t admit it, but no matter how much he learned, and no matter how much Logan opened up to him, he might always be scared of him. Just a little.

Halloween had come and gone, they hadn’t done much but Talyn and Joan showed up at their door, on their way to some party, dolled up in fancy dress. Jokingly they demanded candy. Patton of course gave them a zip-lock bag of cookies each. Virgil got a picture with them before they left, it was stuck up on his wall.

Thanksgiving wasn’t much either, Logan this time was in the kitchen, as it turned out, Patton was an excellent baker, but his cooking skills were lacking. Virgil even helped out, peeling potatoes and keeping timers. Talyn had to go to their family, but Joan came round, Patton insisting that they couldn’t spend it alone.

Christmas was approaching now, Patton had been blasting Mariah Carey, Brenda Lee and Bobby Helms since December 1st.

Virgil sat doing his homework, still at school and starting to enjoy it, getting into the flow of things finally. He’d started doing it in the dining room, and now that it was too cold to take Carbon out all the time, it was his only focus.

That was until Patton came home from work, bursting through the door, throwing his coat at the hooks and missing them terribly, before dashing up the stairs.

The teenager stared at this scenario as it unfolded. It wasn’t the strangest thing Patton had done, but it was definitely up there.

Logan's voice sounded from up the stairs, he’d been in his study, marking and working on the next assignment for his class. “Bear be careful! You will hurt yourself if you don’t be cautious. Let me take something.”

Virgil saw the cause for concern as Patton bounced happily down the stairs with boxes upon boxes in his hands.

He set them on the coffee table before shoving Logan’s armchair to the side of the couch. Creating an oddly empty space in the living room.

“What is going on?” Virgil asked, finally questioning the actions of his father.

Patton beamed at him as the opened the biggest box on the table, revealing green plastic. “We’re putting up the Christmas tree, kiddo!”

“It is a reasonably acceptable date to do so, much to Patton's dismay, I deem November 1st far too early, as do most of his friends.” Logan replied adjusting his glasses.

“What’s a Christmas tree?” Virgil asked, confused, standing up and walking over. He’d heard the song, Patton had played it, but he’d never seen one. He winced at the look of horror on the baker’s face, afraid he’d done something wrong he felt his shoulders rising up, his body tensed.

“It’s an evergreen or artificial tree often decorated with an assortment lights, tinsel, and other ornaments at Christmas. It originated in Germany, people used evergreens to decorate their homes to remind them of the spring to come.” Logan replied calmly, placing a gentle hand on Virgil's shoulder.

Patton’s expression softened. “Well, if this is your first Christmas tree, we gotta make it special!” He smiled, and Virgil let out a small sigh of relief.

“I found some relatively new music, you’ve been listening to the CD I gave you, by My Chemical Romance?” Logan asked, the teenager nodded, as Patton set to opening the boxes. “Well, considering that you must be sick of Mariah Carey, I thought you’d appreciate this.”

The raspy voice of Gerard Way flooded from the speakers, accompanied by soft piano, then roaring guitar.

The Christmas tree was set up in no time, Logan had the instructions in hand, and whilst Patton insisted on wearing Tinsel as a feather boa despite the itchiness, Virgil tried his best not to giggle as he helped Logan construct the tree.

Patton arranged the lights, and Virgil put the ornaments in rainbow order as best he could.

“It looks great.” Virgil noted, as he stared at the tree, it was quite tall, he could reach the top if he stood on his toes.

“There’s one more thing left kiddo.” Patton replied, handing him a metal star shape with a hollow cone melded to the bottom. “This is the best part!” He giggled.

Virgil flushed red and tried to hand the star back to the older man. “Dad if it’s the best part don’t you wanna do it?”

“I’ve had twenty-eight years of doing it. This is _your_ first Christmas.” Patton smiled softly.

Virgil winced, rubbing a hand over his face. “Uhm… What do I… _Do_ with it.” He asked, embarrassed at his lack of knowledge in these things, wishing he knew more.

“Its nothing to be embarrassed about Virgil.” Logan replied. “You set it on top of the most vertical point. You can reach I'm sure.” He adjusted his glasses, offering a nod.

Attempting to shrug his embarrassment off, he stretched up and set the star on top of the tree, using the tips of his fingers to adjust it slightly. When he stood back down he was met with a kiss to his cheek from Patton, who was giggling as Virgil wiped it away with his sleeve, fake gagging as the baker kissed Logan on the mouth.

It was beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.

Five days later, things took a turn.

Virgil woke up to shouting. His alarm red in bright LED numbers 04:32. Suddenly he was eight years old again, the shadows seemed darker and scarier as he crept into the hall.

He could smell the alcohol spilt on the floor and he could see the broken glass bottles that had been thrown in the kitchen as his “parents” argued.

Only this time, he was fourteen, and it was Logan and Patton. But they didn’t argue anymore, they’d worked everything out, they were on equal terms.

What was happening? Was this a nightmare?

Then why did it seem so real?

He crept down the stairs, just enough so he could see and hear what was happening.

“No, Logan you do _not_ get to ignore me like this, where were you?” Patton ordered, sterner than Virgil had ever seen him before.

“Nowhere.” The teacher was gripping onto the breakfast bar counter, to hold himself up. His words were slurred. His face was bloody and bruising but he didn’t seem all that phased by it, his fingers were cut up, his hair was a mess, and his tie was undone and hanging limply over his shoulders.

“No, you’ve been _somewhere_. Your lip is busted, and you’re drunk. After _five years_ sober, something has made you drink. Where. Were. You.” Patton asked again, he was angry, that was imminent.

Logan rubbed his eyes under his glasses, his hand movements weren’t precise. “m’ parents.” He replied.

“Excuse me?” Patton folded his arms. “After everything I’ve done, after everything my family have done for you. You have the audacity to call those- those _monsters,_ your parents?” He seemed outraged.

“I-I owe them, Bear.” Logan looked just as anxious as Virgil felt, watching it happened it seemed like a soap opera.  

“ _No_ , don’t you _Bear_ me. You don’t owe them anything. If anyone, you owe me. I don’t know what they drilled into your head, but I’ve been spending the last fourteen years trying to dig it out again.”

“Hey listen-“

“What’re you gonna do? Are you gonna yell at me again? Are you gonna traumatise my son even more? Because let me tell you something, if it comes down to it, you both need my help, but he actually appreciates it.” Patton spat. Virgil had never seen Patton legitimately angry, this was different than the fight when Logan first met the teenager.

He was scared, unsure of what to do, frozen on the stairs, only able to just watch and listen.

Logan stumbled toward Patton, who only stepped back, as the teacher tried to form a reply. “I do I just-“

“You just what? Why do you think you need them? What have they ever done for you? They made you a robot, and took your money to the point you were barely living. Now you come home hammered and busted up.” Patton was crying now, though he was trying to hide it in an attempt to seem tougher than he is. “When you kissed me that night on the street, when you asked me to be your boyfriend before we fell asleep, when you moved into my home; you received an obligation. Not just to me, but to Virgil, my son, _our_ son.” Logan looked starstruck.

“He looks up to you, admires you, every day I see more of you in him. But I never want him to become this. You are his second parental figure, his emergency contact. I don’t value myself much, but I _won’t_ let him take anymore abuse.” There was fire in his eyes and in his voice, as tears flowed through both. “I love you so much, I really do, Lo’. Don’t make me choose otherwise.”

Virgil was crying now, unsure of what to feel. He bit down hard on his knuckles, trying to silence himself as he watched this scene unfold through the banisters.

Logan sniffed, taking off his glasses, throwing them onto the counter, clumsily wiping tears away from his eyes. “I thought… I thought they’d be proud.” The last part quickly became a whisper. It wasn’t common for Logan to display such emotion. “I got success, everything I thought they wanted. I have a job, a home, I-I'm in _love_ … But it’s not enough. He- he hit me. Told me I'm a mistake, useless, _nothin’_. Worth less than a fucking calculator!” He bit his lip as tears started to fall, staring at the floor as he shook his head. “An’ now you hate me too. So, now I _am_ less than a stupid hunk of fucking plastic! I'm not- I’m not anything. You should have jus’ let me jump.” He stood up, swaying on his feet.

“C’mere tough guy.” Patton's voice was soft, and he caught Logan in a hug, as the teacher stumbled into his embrace on unsteady legs. “Love is meant to have ups and downs. But not like this Lo’. I want you to try it, promise me you’ll look into it.” His voice grew quieter in the silent house.

“I-I promise.” Logan stammered out, as he gripped the fabric of Patton's t-shirt in his fists.

“Kiddo, you can come down now. Shadows are a thing you know.” Patton smiled softly as Virgil flushed red, gently stepping down the stairs, standing awkwardly at the bottom as Logan clung to the baker as if his life depended on it.

The older man shook his head softly. “Wanna join the hug party?” He asked, pulling Virgil into his side as the younger boy complied. “What a great way to start the holidays eh?” He giggled a little.

“Hey V, how are you?” Logan asked, his tone lighter and giggler now, as he let go of Patton and took note of the younger boy.

“I'm alright, how are you?” Virgil replied with a raised eyebrow, uncomfortable and slightly unsure of how Logan acts when intoxicated.

“I'm doing well!” Logan laughed. Happy drunk, well, happier now he was aware that Patton didn’t hate him.

Virgil tilted his head. “You look terrible.” He replied pointedly.

“I fell real hard. Sidewalk’s a bitch.” The teacher told him, with utmost seriousness. “You’re a good kid, I love you a lot. Both of you a lot. You guys are the best family I’ve had. Jus’ took me a while to figure it out. And _I’m_ meant to be the smart one!” He giggled.

Virgil sighed softly, handing him his glasses back. “You are, Logo, you are.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave you some seasonally inaccurate fluff, to make up for the angst. 
> 
> this is a loooonnnngggg boi so be grateful, im so fucking tired.
> 
> also, ya boi won his first art competition so be proud (yes I draw, no you don't care) I might make some art for this book 
> 
> trigger warning, minor mentions of vomit
> 
> ok ily enjoy

Virgil was sat on the couch, playing a video-game, he didn’t play them often because they made his head sick, but they were a good way to pass the time. Logan and Patton were both upstairs doing who knows what, so he had the downstairs to himself. Well, almost. Carbon rested her head on his legs, and in between rounds he scratched behind her ears as she slowly fell asleep on top of him.

“Hey kiddo can I talk to you about something.” Patton asked, as he bounced downstairs, happy as usual.

He felt his pulse begin to quicken, he hated those types of questions, they left his mind racing because countless times before the _something_ had never been anything good.

But this was Patton. He could talk about these issues with him, he could explain, and the older man would try to correct himself. Things were different now. Things were better now.

Pausing the game, he turned to face the baker, trying not to shake Carbon too much.

Giving him a nervous smile, he replied. “Uh, Dad? Just for future reference, that’s not a good question to ask an anxious person.” Patton nodded. “What’s up?”

“Well, its Christmas in two days. For the past, I don’t know how many, years me and Logan-“

“Logan and I, dearest.” Logan corrected as he walked down the stairs, flicking the kettle on as he went.

Patton rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the teacher. “Logan and _I,_ have gone to my parents, so-“

“You want me to stay here? That’s cool, I’m sure Talyn or Joan’ll hang out with me if they aren’t busy and I won’t burn the house do-“

“No no no no! That’s not what I'm saying at all!”

“Quite the opposite, love.” Logan added, he was making coffee, probably marking the end of term assessments in his study, those tended to take a lot out of him.

Virgil looked at Patton, confused. “We want you to go with us. I'm just saying, due to the _circumstances_ of your fostering, my parents don’t know. So, there may be tears.”

Tears? Why tears?

Oh yeah, because he’s a disappointment.

They expect any child from Patton to be glowing and fun just like him and instead? Instead they got Virgil, an anxious ball of nerves. He wasn’t good enough to be Patton’s son, and he wasn’t good enough to be their grandson.

They would expect the world and they got Virgil. What was he? He was nothing.

That’s why there would be tears.

“A-Am I really that bad?” It was a rhetorical question, Virgil knew the answer, but for some reason he was searching reassurance. He _needed_ reassurance.

He’s gone so long, living in a bubble where he isn’t so bad. Realising that he’s just as awful as he’s always been. It’s a harsh crash through the roof of reality. It seemed to knock the air out of him. The voices of his old family rang in his head, their words telling him everything he already knew about himself.

Patton placed his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, focusing at eye level. “Kiddo, you keep jumping the gun. When I told my parents, my mom especially, that I was gay. They were happy for me. But once we grew up they were desperate for grandkids. And yeah, there’s always Valerie but… _Heart_ is a special thing, they were disappointed that it would end with me.”

“What he’s attempting to illustrate is that they will be happy tears. The hypothalamus is unable to differentiate the difference between happy and sad. So, Patton's mother may be overwhelmed with joy.” Logan cut in, handing Patton a mug, before pressing a kiss to the top of the baker’s head and walking back upstairs.

“So, we’re spending Christmas at your parents?”

“Yep!” Patton replied, popping the p.

“What about Carbon?” He whispered her name, in a desperate attempt not to wake her up.

Patton shook his head with a smile. “She comes with us. It’s a road trip!”

“How long?” Virgil asked.

“About twelve hours, not counting stops, so we leave early tomorrow, and arrive evening.” Patton replied, sipping his coffee. “So, get packing kiddo!” He ruffled Virgil's hair, much to his distaste.

Shutting off the game, Virgil ran upstairs, but before he began to pack, he wanted to talk to Logan about something. Carefully he knocked on the door of the study, three knocks, a pleasant and solid amount.

“Come in, Virgil!” He called, he always knew who it was, because Patton didn’t knock.

Virgil loved the study, it was lined with bookshelves, from fact to fiction, it had books that even the library didn’t. It was old fashioned, and wood furnished, like a log cabin.

“How can I help you?” Logan asked, he was flicking through a paper, red pen between his fingers, there was a stack of assignments beside him on his desk, and Virgil could be certain there was more at his feet.

Virgil fiddled with his jacket, trying to figure out the words he wanted to use, how he wanted to phrase the question. “Pap- Logan, I- uhm, I wanted to ask you something.” He stammered over himself, trying to cover the mistake he made.

“Pardon me, but what were you going to call me?” Logan asked, glancing up, he was twirling a pen between his fingers, and looking at Virgil with curiosity.

Virgil flushed red, to his ears, pulling his sleeves into his fists. “Logan, _duh_.” He lied through his teeth. “I wanted to ask-“

“Answer my question. Properly. ” The teacher cut him off. Virgil knew for a fact that Logan knew exactly what he was going to call him. He just wanted Virgil to say it, so he could laugh at him.

“Answer mine, I asked first.” The teenager retorted. Logan didn’t mind his sass or snark, having very high degrees of each of them himself. He encouraged quick wit and debate. So, Virgil talked to him in a gutsier way than he talked to anyone else.

Except maybe Joan. But their friendship consisted of insulting each other, and then faking hurt until the other apologised.

“I’m the authority here. Welcome to the hierarchy.”

“Damn capitalism.” He laughed just as Logan did before the teacher coughed and went back to his original agenda.

“What were you going to say?” He repeated, insistent on finding out. And Logan was stubborn, Virgil had learned that, if anything, about him.

The teenager pulled at his sleeves. “I-It’s stupid, it doesn’t matter, honestly.”

“Completion principle, Virgil.” Logan replied in a sing-song voice. He loved to use that against him. Virgil had asked him a while ago about a question he had asked, that had gone unanswered. Logan gave him the answer and then explained why it had been on his mind so much.

The brain didn’t like unfinished puzzles. So, when things weren’t complete, it focuses on them until they are.

“I was gonna call you…” Virgil sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head toward the floor, in order to avoid Logan's reaction. “Papa.”

“Why are you embarrassed about that?” Logan asked.

Virgil laughed softly. “It’s stupid isn’t it? You’re Dr Logan Sanders, sophisticated and smart.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, my title doesn’t matter a damn to me. You’ve literally watched this _sophisticated_ and _smart_ man pour salt into his coffee and drink it anyway despite the taste. Virgil, if that’s what you want to call me, I’d be honoured. However, one thing doesn’t quite make sense to me, why that name specifically?” He wasn’t making fun of Virgil. Not in the slightest, his tone was sincere.

Virgil fiddled with a loose thread on his hoody, trying to construct the sentence he wanted. “Well, I already call Patton, Dad. So, calling you that as well would be confusing. But uh, when I was first put in foster care, I wasn’t used to not having a family, so I latched on to any familial figure I could find. I didn’t like the term Dad, because my biological dad wasn’t the nicest. So instead I called the foster worker who took care of me, Papa.”

“You call Patton dad.”

“Because he is one. The man who I'm biologically linked to wasn’t, he doesn’t deserve the title of father, because he never was one. I didn’t realise that back then, but I know it now. Patton, he cares more than that man ever did.”

Logan looked dumfounded, it wasn’t a common occurrence. “A-And you think I deserve the title of Papa?”

 “You aren’t perfect, Logo. But you do care, no matter how you try and hide it. You’d die for Patton and you’d die for me. You love us. _That’s_ what a father is.”

“I hurt you.” Logan played with his fingers, another habit he shared with the teenager. His voice cracked as he spoke the words, tears in his throat, knowing the damage.

“You never meant to. You apologised. And you’re trying to better yourself. That’s all I need.” Virgil replied.

Virgil could’ve sworn, Logan was crying. “I'm not the greatest with affection, but I do believe now would be the time for it.” He pushed himself up from his desk.

Virgil beat him to the punch, standing on his toes to give him a hug, his chin resting on Logan’s shoulder, as Logan rubbed his back. It was different to how Patton hugged him, firmer, more solid. Like armour in the form of a human. Somehow comforting.

“So,” Logan began, letting go of Virgil and leaning against his desk. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh yeah. Uhm, about what you said earlier, do you really think they’ll like me? Dad’s parents, I mean.” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Logan smiled softly. “I know they’ll like you. They took me in as a son. And you’re far better than I was then. Even if you weren’t, they’d take you in whatever shape or form you came in.” Virgil didn’t seem convinced. “Patton adores you already, he clearly has reason behind it. How could _they_ not?”

“Thanks, Papa.” Virgil replied, the name sounded nice on his tongue.

Logan sighed softly, sitting back at his desk. “Now go pack your shit. We have to leave early in the morning, and I'm not listening to you moan about forgetting something.” Virgil rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

 

****

* * *

 

 

 

The car ride went fine.

Fine being; Patton getting upset because Logan took his SpongeBob-SquarePants CD out of the disc slot after the fifth time it looped, Logan drinking a coffee and a Redbull at the same time much to Patton’s distress, and Virgil attempting to block most of it out by listening to his Walkman.

So, fine, by their standards.

After maybe five pitstops, for food, bathroom and gas, they made it to their destination. It was a bigger town than Lewisburg for sure. Storefronts were colourful and new, people were running down the streets as rain poured down, their umbrellas turning inside out in the wind.

The sun was setting by the time they made it to Patton's family home. It was a big house, detached, and had lots of land. There was an old swing-set around the side of the building and Virgil smiled.

Sighing to himself he removed his headphones, allowing them to rest around his neck, he clutched the CD player, as if it would bring him luck.

“Oh, look its our favourite son! And Patton too!” A cheerful voice rang out as the three stepped out of the car, Virgil holding carbon on her lead.

Patton's father was a hefty man with a kind face, he had little hair but an impressive beard, an odd mixture of brown, red and grey.

His mother still had brown hair but judging by the greys at her roots it was dyed, she was slim, and wore oval glasses, the metal frame soft in contrast to her features.

They didn’t look very old, then again he supposed Patton wasn’t old enough to have a fourteen-year-old on his own. They couldn’t have been over fifty. They looked nice. His grandparents from his first home never wanted anything to do with him, which ended up putting him in care.

 “Oh, you know you love me.” Patton replied, leaning against the car.

His mom shook her head. “Logan wasn’t the one who almost set the house on fire making bread.”

“Yeah because Logan _did_ set the house on fire making bread.” Patton laughed, rolling his eyes as Logan stuck his tongue out.

Virgil supposed it was inevitable that they noticed him, he wished he didn’t have to go through introductions with more people. “Oh! We have a newcomer. What’s your name kiddo?” Patton's Dad spoking, giving Virgil a kind smile.

“Uh, I-I’m- My name is Virgil.” He spoke, trying not to speak too quickly.

“Very exotic, so, who is he Patty? You never told us you were bringing another one. I’ll have to get another room made up.” His mom replied, she didn’t seem annoyed, pleased almost.

Patton decided to bite the bullet. “Well… He is my son, I'm fostering him.”

“Surprise?” Logan added, slightly apprehensive.

Patton's mother’s face lit up with a smile and a laugh. “You have a son? Peter, we have a Grandkid!” She squealed, hitting her husband on the shoulder as if to get his attention.

“I heard him too, honey, I'm not _that_ deaf.” He replied, swatting her hands away gently.

“I'm sure you’ll be glad to hear that his name has been changed to Heart.” Patton added, placing a gentle hand on the teenager’s shoulder. He’d come to know over time that when the younger boy was feeling anxious he didn’t really like to be touched.

Virgil shrugged as they looked at him expectantly. “I-I didn’t like my other name very much.” He muttered, opening the trunk of Patton’s car to get their bags. He shrugged his backpack over his shoulders and took both Logan and Patton’s suitcases before they could touch them.

His siblings used to make him carry their bags when they walked to school, so he had upwards of seven at a time, dragging him down.

This was no problem to him.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll get to know you over the next few days, kiddo. Here, let me help.” Patton’s dad, Peter, ran forward to give him a hand. “Gosh, that must be some weight, let me take a bag.” He insisted.

Virgil looked at him, confused. “Uh, sure, Dad’s is lighter, Papa brought a library with him.” He handed the older man the suitcase covered in cat stickers.

“Dad, and Papa? Gosh, you are a little family!” His mother cried.

Patton laughed. “Calm yourself, lets get inside before we freeze to death.” He replied, taking Carbon’s lead from the teenager and making his way to the front door.

“Virgil, I am aware that you have the capability for it, but I’d rather you let me take my case.” Logan spoke softly.

Reluctantly Virgil handed the teacher his case, gripping the straps of his bag on his shoulders.

He let out a soft breath of relief, Patton’s parents, his grandparents seemed nice enough, they seemed to like him too. He could breathe normally again.

“You coming, Virge?” Patton asked, he’d let Carbon go, returning to the door to check for his son.

Virgil glanced up, realising that he hadn’t moved from the car and Logan had since gone inside, leaving him to clear his head for a moment.

“Yeah.” The teenager smiled, walking up the drive to the door.

The house was warm, and welcoming. Earthy colours filled each room, rather than the blue theme in their own house.

It was decorated with royal reds and golds, shiny materials and decorations for the holidays. Cute trinkets sat on the sideboards and photographs were everywhere.

One of Patton, he would have to have been about six, missing his top two teeth, oversized glasses perched atop his nose, proudly smiling as a butterfly had landed atop his sandcastle in the sandbox. Another one of three girls, all older, flowers woven into their braided hair, with Patton in front, wearing a daisy crown atop his head.

He looked a lot like Virgil when he was little. Was this what his childhood could’ve been?

Shaking his head as if it would get rid of the thoughts, he quickly darted in the direction Patton had gone, leading him into a cosy living room.

They had aa log burner in the corner and a television at the other end. Patton was sitting nestled into the corner of the sofa, and Logan was lying into him, with his head on the bakers chest.

“You two are gross.” He spoke, joking clearly as he took a seat beside then anyway, setting his bag on the floor beside his feet. .

Logan quirked up an eyebrow at him. “Well then, I must inform Roman that you think love is _gross_.” He taunted, and Virgil poked his tongue out at him, trying to ignore the fact that his face was flushed.

“Here, Bear.” Patton’s mom handed Patton a mug the marshmallows peaking over the top indicated that it was cocoa. “Owl, you wanted coffee?” She asked, receiving a tired nod from Logan. “Virgil can I get you anything?” She turned to the teenager.

He stared at her like a deer in the headlights, trying to think of an answer. “Uhm, do you have any soda, ma’am?”

“Oh honey, call me Jane, or Grandma if you’d like. Yes we have soda, comin’ right up sweetheart.” She laughed airily before walking out of the room.

“I thought the whole Bear and Owl names was a couple thing?” Virgil questioned the two men who sat beside him.

“Bear is short for Pooh Bear, like Winnie the Pooh. I’m Bear, Val’ is Tigger, and Lo’ is Owl.” Patton replied, he paused for a minute before he gasped. “We should give you one!” He cried, jerking up in his seat, shaking Logan who groaned and pressed his face into Patton’s chest further.

“That’s not necessary.” Virgil replied, his voice was quiet. He didn’t kind of want to be included but this was a family thing, he was just some kid Patton had taken in.

“It is. Well, out of those left, there’s Piglet, Rabbit and Roo. Piglet is a quiet stress head, Rabbit likes his space, and Roo is the youngest.”

“All three would work in favour for him, Darling.” Logan muttered, he had his eyes shut, but was still conscious. “Go with rabbit, it’s nicer, and if anything, he does exhibit traits of real rabbits.”

“Rabbit it is then.”

“Father dearest, would you kill me if I told you I had no clue what you’re talking about.” Virgil asked, giggling at the look of shock on Patton’s face.

As if on cue Jane walked through the door, Peter following shortly behind. She handed Virgil a can of cola and set Logan’s coffee on the coffee table.

“Mom, he’s never seen Winnie the Pooh.” Patton spoke indignantly, Virgil knew for a face he would have folded his arms and pouted if Logan wasn’t occupying his chest with his head.

“What’s his nickname, then?” Peter asked, sitting in his armchair.

“Rabbit.” Virgil replied, with a soft smile, he quite liked that nickname now he thought about it. It was certainly better than Runt, or Sick-head.

When Sammy threw up on the carpet they’d pushed Virgil to the floor, and much to his displeasure he got it in his hair. Thus, a new, and freshly hurtful name was born.

“Well, tomorrow we’ll watch it, Bear. Val and Eric will be here soon. Oh, Rabbit, you’re in the attic, Patty and Lo’ share his room, and Val has hers, but the guest room is in the middle of being decorated, so I’ll make up the attic room in a minute.” Jane nodded toward Virgil.

“The favourite child has returned!” A voice called from the hall, followed by her own dramatic music sung by herself. “What’s happening?”

She walked through the door and Virgil placed his head in his hands.

Valerie. Mrs. V. Torres.

“Welcome to Christmas, Val.” Patton replied, and when Virgil looked up she was hugging both Patton and Logan, while a man, presumably her husband, Eric, stood at the door. He was a tall man, a small beard and ear gauges donned his face, he looked nice enough.

“So, I heard you’re a dad now, where’s the little rug-rat?” She asked, following the direction of Logan's lazy point, to Virgil, who was currently trying to disappear.

“Well, we need to correct Roman now huh, kiddo?”

The attic room was dark, it was warm, and there weren’t any windows. Carbon was downstairs, they’d brought her bed with them, so she could sleep in the car.

He was alone.

Patton had asked him if he wanted to trade rooms. He should’ve said yes, but he wanted to seem stronger, better than he was when Patton first met him. Stronger than that.

But, in the end, he knew he wasn’t.

The night terror struck, just as he feared. Grotesque and Painful, just as horrifying as they all were.

He woke up, a scream in his throat that he retained, barely.

Panicked and disorientated, the room was pitch black, he searched for the light switch eventually finding the lamp on the floor beside him, flicking it on and flooding the room with yellow light. It cast shadows on the slanted walls and he began to feel claustrophobic.

Unsure of what else to do, he opened the hatch on the floor, turning off the light, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light in the hallway.

Patton’s room wasn’t difficult to find, it was pastel blue, with a capital _P_ stuck in the middle. He knocked, to no response.

He breathed into himself. This was Patton and Logan.

If he had a problem, they would solve it.

Things were different now, he just needed to remind himself of that.

Virgil gripped the door handle with shaking fingers, pushing it down and opening the door as quietly as he could.

Gently he shook Patton awake.

“Virgil?” Patton squinted, sitting up and feeling for his glasses on the bedside table. He was in a t-shirt and kitten printed pyjama pants.

Virgil hugged himself, shaking with anxiety and shivering in just a t-shirt and pyjama shorts. “I-I’m sorry, I had a n-nightmare and I-I didn’t know what to d-do.” He stammered out, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt tears slipping down his cheeks.

Patton shook his head. “You did the right thing, kiddo. If you want I can set you up on the couch, or you could sleep here with us.”

“I don’t wanna bother you. I’m sorry, this is dumb, I’ll go back up.” He replied, but Patton grabbed his hand, gently.

“It isn’t dumb, and you aren’t bothering me. I’d like to know if my son is okay or not, shrugging off the issue like it doesn’t matter will make it worse.” Patton replied softly, as Logan muttered something in his sleep, missing the presence of the baker laying beside him. “It’s a big bed, you like having Carbon beside you, it makes you feel safe. So, it should help to have us.”

“Y-You don’t mind?” He asked, and Patton shook his head.

Eventually they found a comfortable position, as Logan latched on to Patton, who acted as a sort of barrier, resting his head on Patton’s chest. Virgil had his head in the crook of Patton’s neck, the baker played with his hair knowing it helped him calm down.

“Fuck, Bear, your feet are cold.” Logan groaned as he woke up, Virgil jerked awake at the sound of his voice, nearly falling from the bed.

“Logan it’s Christmas, you can’t swear on Christmas.” Patton mumbled back.

“Fuck you, I can so.” He replied shifting a little.

Virgil laughed. “If I ban you as well then it’s two against one. Welcome to the hierarchy bitch.”

“No swearing on Christmas! Or there’ll be no presents for either of you.” Patton poked Virgil in the cheek and the same could be assumed for Logan.

“Night terrors, Rabbit?”

“Mm-hm.” Virgil murmured into the mattress. “Considering its Christmas, I thought you’d be more excited.” He replied poking Patton in the side.

“Wait for it to set in, sleep while you still can.” Logan laughed.

Sighing, Virgil rolled of the bed, catching himself with his hands so he didn’t hit the floor hard. “I’m gonna go let carbon out.” He declared, leaving the room and walking downstairs to see carbon, just as he expected waiting by the door.

“Virgil it’s Christmas!” A yell came from down the hall.

He laughed, before being tackled with a hug, stumbling back slightly.

“It set in!” Logan called walking into the kitchen as the teenager struggled to pry the baker off.     

“Dad- I- Know- It’s- Christmas- But- I- Need- To- Breathe!” Virgil managed to speak before finally breaking free from the clutches of a hyped-up Patton.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo!” He squealed running to the kitchen.

Virgil laughed. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

He followed them to the kitchen, it was quite big, a giant kitchen island and cupboards galore. Logan was sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, glasses on the table as he rubbed his eyes.

Jane and Peter were already up, in the kitchen, cooking god knows what. They were such a cute couple, wearing matching outfits and aprons as they flaunted around the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo, how’d you sleep?” Peter asked, shooting him a glance before rifling through the fridge.

Virgil shrugged. “Fine I guess, thank you.” He replied, smiling as Logan handed him a glass of orange juice.

“We have a few more things to prep and then we’ll do presents. Where’s Tigger?”

“Asleep, she’ll be down the moment she hears presents being opened.” Patton replied, rolling his eyes.

They ended up in the living room, there was stockings hung from the bookshelf, and a mound of presents under the tree, Virgil excused himself, lying to say he needed the bathroom before running up the stairs to get his backpack.

He ended up sitting on the ground, they had a soft rug on the wooden floor.

Valerie and Eric were sat on the sofa beside Logan and Patton, and everybody was practically shaking with excitement.

“Well, I think us old folk should gift the young’uns first.” Peter replied. “Bear, you have stars. Owl, you have spots. Tigger you have stripes. And Eeyore, you have zig-zags.” He gestured to the tree, describing the wrapping paper of each small pile of presents.

Suddenly there were five people on the floor, so Virgil laughed and pushed himself up onto the sofa, hunching his knees to his chest.

“They grow up so fast, huh Rabbit?” Jane giggled as she watched her children, and their loves, tear open their gifts.

When they finished, Logan had two decorative Christmas bows stuck to his glasses, courtesy of Valerie, Patton was wearing patterned socks on his hands and feet, Valerie was wearing a plastic crown, and Eric was exactly the same as he was before. The only sane one out of the four.

Jane took a photo of them before she got on with the agenda. “Okay, now you gotta repay the favour.”

Logan got Jane a puzzle and Peter a new cooking pan. Patton got his mom a necklace and his dad a watch. Valerie gifted her mother with a new pair of shoes, and her father with a wallet. And Eric got the joke gifts, a stuffed toy that changed expressions and a solar powered sunflower that danced.

“I uh, I didn’t know we were coming here, so I don’t have anything for you guys but uh, I got something for my parents.” Virgil spoke up, giving an apologetic glance to his grandparents and Valerie and Eric.

He ran to the hall pulling out a parcel from his backpack. It was wrapped in newspaper and tied with black ribbon, but he set it in between Logan and Patton.

“There’s a few things in it. One of them, Joan and Talyn helped me with, and that ones for both of you but you also have an individual thing.” He explained nervously, jittery with excitement.

“I assure you Virgil, this wasn’t necessary, but it means a lot.” Logan replied, as Patton seemed at a loss for words, he had stars in his eyes. “You can do the honours, Darling.” He nudged Patton, who opened this one more carefully than the others he’d received.

Inside were two board canvases and a book. Painted on the canvases were Patton and Logan individually.

“These are magnificent, did you paint these?” Logan asked, he’d taken the one of himself, and Patton did the same.

“They look just like them! Man kiddo, you have some talent.” Peter smiled at him proudly, as Patton showed the paintings to them.

“You got them the wrong way round.” Virgil said quietly. They looked at him confused. So, he took the canvases from them and switched them around before handing them back. “Look at the other thing.” He gestured to the book.

It was a photo album, self-made. The front cover was black, and read _Fam-ily_ in swirling silver calligraphy.

Inside were photos of them all, there were pictures of Virgil and Talyn making silly faces, pictures of Joan and Virgil playing chess, pictures of Patton, Logan and Virgil playing games.

“It was my idea, Joan gave me their camera, and Talyn helped me put it together. So, its from the three of us. Its kinda stupid though I dunno, uhm…” He trailed off.

Patton laughed softly, wiping tears from under his glasses. “It’s wonderful, thank you so much.” He replied, giving the teenager an awkward floor hug.

“Thoughtful kid, Patty, you picked well.” Valerie replied, nudging the baker with her foot.

He poked his tongue out, pulling the shoe off her foot.

“We got Virgil presents he goes now!” Patton yelled excitedly, gesturing to the pile of presents in shiny purple wrapping paper, Virgil could’ve sworn they weren’t there before.

He played with his hands. “Uhm really? You didn’t have to.”

“Have and want Virgil.” Patton reminded him, so reluctantly he took his place on the floor, as Patton handed him a parcel.

First came new jeans, black but bleached. Then a new t-shirt, printed with the My Chemical Romance logo, fitting since they had become one of his favourites. A few books followed that, clearly picked out by Logan. Furthermore, a pair of Bluetooth earbuds, considerably more discreet than his headphones, but he was confused because his Walkman didn’t do Bluetooth, obviously.

“Okay, last two. And I know you’re gonna feel bad about it, but you do deserve it.” Patton told him as he gestured to one of the boxes, the smaller of the two that were left.

Virgil took the box with slightly shaky hands. “Uh okay.”

He unwrapped it and he could practically feel the pressure building up in the room, but he opened it to feel a white box. Blank, with no text indicating anything.

“Open it.” Patton egged him on, clearly more eager than the teenager himself.

He pulled off the lid and then dropped the box, raising his hands to cover his mouth as he felt tears coming.

It was a smartphone. His own phone.

He’d been insistent that he didn’t need one, insistent that it was too much money to waste on him, insistent that it was a waste in the first place.

But they’d spent it anyway, they thought he was worth it.

“Hey, save the tears for the next one.” Patton replied, laughing softly.

His hands still trembling, he picked up the last box, it was surprisingly light for its size. He tore the paper off, revealing a cardboard box, generic red branding on the sides.

So, he opened the top, and there was almost nothing inside. Nothing, but a sheet of paper.

He picked it up out of the box, expecting it to say something, or tell him it was a joke.

Instead it was a picture. It took him a minute to figure out why it was so familiar, then he realised it was his room.

He looked at Patton, then at Logan and then back to the paper.

“The room, if you want it, it’s yours. For however long you want it. Until you don’t have a use for it anymore.” Logan explained, and it dawned on him.

As the tears flowed. As he smiled through the sobs. As Patton hugged him, followed by Logan, then Valerie, Eric, Jane and Peter, until they were all just one big huddle.

He was wanted.

He was wanted.

He was _wanted._

By the people he loved the most.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had your fluff. Im not even sorry. 
> 
> Also, ya boi started school again. Im doing 11 GCSEs so forgive me if updates are slow. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS
> 
> gore and injury  
> mentions of death

Virgil rested his head on his desk, it was his first class of the day, he’d been back to school for a week and this Friday seemed to drag on forever.

Logan entered the classroom, with a cheerful spring in his step. Clapping his hands, he startled the class into silence, and Virgil looked up to pay attention.

He was at the end of the row of desks, Roman was in this class too, but he was sat down at the back and as lenient as Logan could be, he wasn’t one to welcome change, so he put Virgil at one of the only available desks.

“Alright, good morning. Today’s lesson is going to be slightly different. I am assigning you a project, you will have two weeks from today, to finish it. It’s a paired presentation, on one of the topics we have covered so far. You can do whatever you like, if you can give the main points of what happened in the period of time you are talking about. Sing, dance, preform, it’s up to you.”  He smiled at the class, as it started to buzz with soft chatter, people organising who they were going to do it with. “Now, don’t get _too_ excited, I’m picking the pairs.” He smirked at the audible collective groan that resounded from the class.

In the end, Roman was sitting beside Virgil, Logan had given him a wink as he read out their names, but surprisingly nobody complained.

He wasn’t sure if the teacher should be allowed to do that, but he wasn’t about to protest.

Logan handled his favouritism very well, Virgil thought, he knew for a fact if he asked the teacher who his favourite pupil was it would be him. However, if anybody else asked him, not a word would be spoken.

Somehow, he avoided reverse favouritism as well, which the teenager appreciated.

“What topic did you enjoy most?” Roman asked, he was talking quite softly.

Virgil shrugged. “World war two was interesting.” He mumbled, he generally tried to avoid eye contact when he was in a close proximity to the prince. He wasn’t sure how easily he would blush in a situation like that. Truthfully he couldn’t risk it.

“We could re-enact the Wannsee meeting?” Roman suggested, leaning back in his chair.

Virgil laughed, glancing at his friend. “Of course, _you_ want to act it out. Is it too late to change partners?”

Roman elbowed him. “I’d make it a musical if I could.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, nudging him back. “There is no way in hell I'm singing in front of everyone.”

“S’what I thought. Which is why I _can’t_ make it a musical.” The other boy replied. “We could do it on Friday, if that’s fine with your parents, see a movie after if there’s anything on.” He suggested.

The class was buzzing, their history class was quite a tight knit group, only sixteen pupils within it. So, everybody knew everybody, and everybody liked one another. Logan had the rare experience of being genuinely respected by each pupil, so the class ran smoothly.

Virgil nodded slowly, pausing as Logan instructed everyone to pack up. “I think my dad would murder me if you didn’t come to ours, he’s been dying to meet you since we started hanging out.” 

“I'm just adored by everyone.” He flipped the long hair he didn’t have, before adjusting the collar of his letterman jacket as he shrugged it on.

“Speak for yourself, personally _I_ hate you.” Virgil replied, sticking his tongue out, as Roman rolled his eyes.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Surly Temple.” The other boy responded. “See you in Homeroom?”

“Duh.” Virgil replied, walking to his next class.

However, he didn’t make it there the way he’d hoped.

Before he descended one of the staircases, a restraint stopped him from moving forward. He turned around to see who had pulled on his backpack, only to be met with Nathair.

“How can I help you?” Virgil asked, rolling his eyes.

“Drop the sass, Pechman.” The other boy replied, pushing his chest out, trying to make Virgil stumble back, but the taller boy didn’t move.

Pechman? That was Virgil's old name, before Heart. The one that described him perfectly, the one that brought him bad luck, the one that nobody here should know.

The emo dismissed the thought, he probably misheard the dickhead.

Virgil smirked. “You know for somebody who’s against the gays, your hand is incredibly close to my junk.” He replied, tilting his head to the side, laughing as Nathair took an abrupt step back.

“You know for somebody so unwanted, you sure act like gods gift.” He replied, clearly still uncomfortable, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to seem tough, and hide his insecurity.

“I have _friends_ , you have followers.” Virgil jabbed back.

Nathair was alone in school, the only people he had were the people who feared him or admired him. There wasn’t much admirable, he was strong, sure, but he didn’t have much else than that.

The shorter boy laughed. “Your own parents didn’t love you, what makes you think Roman does?”

Virgil inhaled sharply, counting in his head, four, seven, eight. He was not going to lash out, he was going to take it, he was going to be the bigger man.

He didn’t even care that he was late for class, he was just intrigued by what Nathair knew. Or what Nathair thought he knew.

Virgil stepped forward, amused as the shorter boy stepped back, intimidated. “My parents do love me, maybe if you knew what love is, you’d know.”

“Really? Last time I checked your parents beat you, and your new parents are a crime against god.”

Now. _Now_ Virgil was panicking.

How did he know? Who told him? Joan, Logan, Patton and Talyn were the only people who knew. Talyn and Joan didn’t even know the whole story.

He hadn’t told anybody at school, going so far as to lie to Roman about where he’d lived before.

Stepping forward again, Virgil made an effort to seem threatening, as Nathair was backed against a wall, panic in his eyes as Virgil stared him down. “You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.” He growled, keeping his voice low.

“Oh, but I do. Dr Sanders is your so-called father. He and his husband took you in. But they don’t love you, they don’t care, all you are is a statement.”

Just breathe, that’s all he had to do, was breathe. “Dr Sanders isn’t my dad. He doesn’t have a husband. And yeah, my parents don’t love me, sure. But _nobody_ loves you.” Virgil replied, turning his back, and heading for the staircase, unsure of what excuse to use for his lateness.

“That’s not what you told me last, brother dear.”

His balance was thrown, shock in his stomach as his feet went from underneath him.

There was pain.

And then there was nothing.

 

****

* * *

 

 

Logan left for the teachers lounge as the bell rang for lunch, he’d spent his last few periods marking recent assessments.

But there seemed to be a commotion around the left wing’s staircase, so he approached the crowd of students, unsure of what was happening.

“Can somebody explain what’s going on here?” He called out, and all heads turned to him, they had panic on their faces, others had phones in their hands.

“Some kid got knocked down the stairs!” A guy yelled out, and others laughed, some people were crying, and fewer were covering their mouths in shock.

Had anybody thought to do something?

“Out of the way.” Logan ordered, and the crowd of students parted for him to walk through.

For him to walk, to reveal Virgil laying at the bottom, in a pool of his own blood.

Logan wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. He wanted to run down the stairs and hold his son to shake him awake. But he was a teacher, and this was school. So instead he closed his parted lips and went into action. He pulled out his phone, calling an ambulance, calling the headmaster, and calling Patton.

He ordered the students into the canteen and requested that all pictures be deleted off phones and any remaining would be punishable by detention. He called other teachers, and the nurse, and Joan.

Still in his trance he ran down as the hallways cleared, checking the teenager’s pulse, trying to ignore who it was, and the tears desperately wanting to form in his eyes. He was one of the only teachers who knew first aid, but this needed far more than that.

It was slow, but there was still a heartbeat, pumping through his veins.

He wasn’t sure how long the teenager had even been there, but the wound at his head seemed to have stopped bleeding heavily, but just to be safe Logan removed his tie and wrapped it around the teenager’s head, the red staining dark blue almost black.

“Come on Virgil you know you can wake up, you’ve gone through worse.” He whispered, before others showed up, grabbing Virgil’s hand, limp at his side. “You don’t wanna cause a fuss, do you?” He could feel sickness rising up, cursing himself for using one of the teenager’s fears against him. He was desperate.

The paramedics arrived, did all the things Logan did, and congratulated him, and the teachers that had joined them, on the procedure he followed.

But he heard nothing. His ears seemed to be blocking out all sound, because all he could see was Virgil in a pool of his own blood, Virgil dead in an open coffin, Virgil buried six feet deep.

Because _he_ didn’t do enough to protect him.

“Sir, we need a trusted adult to ride with him, you’re his father correct?” One of the medics shook him slightly. “Sir, I know this is difficult, but you need to come with him.”

Nodding, Logan followed, stepping up into the back of the ambulance, staring down at Virgil who now had an oxygen mask over his face, eyes closed, peaceful if not for the frantically wrapped gauze now surrounding his head.

“Have you informed the boys mother?”

“His name is Virgil. And I called his dad and told him what happened.”

“O-Oh, yes, of course, my apologies.” The medic replied, flustered by her mistake.

Logan shook his head, rather than speaking. He feared if he opened his mouth again, all that would come out were broken sobs. So, he stared at the floor, and gripped Virgil's hand in his own, he hadn’t let it go. They’d taken his backpack off, set it on the floor.

If he died, what would Logan do with the backpack? If he died what would Logan do at all?

Patton would kill him. Maybe not _murder_ but he’d disown him. He’d be furious, Logan had never seen him properly angry.

Logan hated seeing him sad too.

Patton would be distraught. He’d hug Logan, but it wouldn’t feel good. It would be sickening, because he was hugging the guilty party, the person who’d let it happen.

Logan hadn’t done enough.

Maybe he would see it too and scream at Logan. For once it would be Patton lashing out, and Logan would take it because he had done this. He’d find comfort in Joan or Talyn, Valerie, his parents. He’d look for everyone else but Logan.

Because he was just a genius with anger issues. A robot in therapy. A man who repeated mistakes and never improved. A headcase, with a doctorate in psychology but unable to help himself, unable to realise where he went wrong.

Logan, who hurt everybody. Even without meaning to.

He knew the hum of the engine was going, he could feel it. Had he gone deaf? He knew it was there, but he couldn’t hear anything, just the ringing, and his own thoughts. They were rushing to hospital, the sirens were wailing and his son was unconscious on a gurney.

Why wasn’t he crying? Why wasn’t he screaming? Why wasn’t he panicked?

Did he even care?

Of course, he did. He loved Virgil. He’d do almost anything for him.

So where was his reaction, his adrenaline, his anxiety cranking through the roof.

They took Virgil away from Logan, rushing him into the theatre.

There he sat, in the lobby, in the sullen silence of the building.

_Then_ he cried.

It was his fault.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for hospital and injury
> 
> but I gave you some fluff so be grateful

Patton’s Heart was in his throat, he and Talyn had locked up shop, telling the teenager who was also working today to go home early. They were in the car driving to the hospital.

“What’d he say?” Talyn asked softly, they were gripping the door handle for dear life, and Patton could tell they were just as panicked as him.

Patton bit his lip, closing his eyes as tears threatened to form. “He said-“ He bit back a sob. “He said somebody pushed Virgil down the stairs.”

They rushed into the hospital after finding a place to park, running to the desk, to ask where to go.

“Virgil Heart? He’s in theatre 7, your husband is waiting outside.” The man at the desk told him, he noticed how distraught Patton was. “Sir, he should be out soon, when he wakes up I'm sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

“Th-Thank you.” Patton whispered, gripping Talyn’s hand, before they dragged him off in the direction of surgery.

Logan was sitting in one of the uncomfortable blue chairs, four seats, and he was in the far left. He was staring at the doors to the theatre, brow furrowed like if he concentrated enough, the doors would open, and Virgil would walk out of them, grinning as he pushed Logan’s glasses up his nose and gave a sarcastic comment.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Instead, Patton sat beside Logan, who didn’t acknowledge his presence, continuing to stare. His eyes were empty, red around the edges, his cheeks still stained with tears.

Patton had only ever seen him like this a few times before, and all he could do was stare in anguish, knowing that no words would get through to him until he calmed down.

Talyn sat next to him, leaning their head on his shoulder, rubbing his back as they reassured him that everything would turn out fine. Though, it seemed they were saying it to themselves, as if repeating the mantra would make it true.

Their quiet murmurs stopped when Joan ran down the hall, pulling their beanie and jacket over their dress shirt.

“Sorry I had a class, they’re my A-Level students I couldn’t leave- What happened?” They asked, staring at the three sitting solemnly side-by-side.

Logan, surprisingly was the one to reply. “Somebody pushed Virgil down the stairs.” He replied.

“Fuck, oh my god, is he okay?”

“We don’t know.”

“How long does he have left?” They noticed Patton scrunch up his face. “ I mean in _surgery_ you dingus.” They replied, realising the phrasing of their words wasn’t the nicest at a time like this.

“He’s been in there an hour so far, there shouldn’t be much longer.” The teacher responded, his voice had no life in it, just misery. “I’m sorry, Bear.” He whispered.

Patton looked confused, he knew for a fact that Logan hadn’t done this, that wouldn’t make sense, because he was swarmed with marking due to assessments completed just before Christmas. So the only time he’d have left his classroom would be at lunch.

The baker couldn’t find the words to say, so instead he just put his arm around Logan, leaning into his side. Logan gripped him tightly, unable to find anymore tears within him, instead choosing to rest his head on top of Patton’s and close his eyes.

When he opened them, Talyn was in front of him, shaking him gently.

“He’s out now, Patty is in the room, they said he could only have two visitors at a time or he’d be overwhelmed, Joan said it should be you. C’mon nerd.” They explained, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him to one of the wards.

As they walked toward the room the teenager was held in, the doctor was leaving.

“Oh yes, Mr Sanders. You should be informed of your son’s wellbeing. He has a broken arm, and a minor concussion, the sprain should heal in six weeks, and the concussion could last between two weeks and five months. I told your boyfriend the medication he’d need.” She spoke, a cheerful smile on her face.

“Just a concussion? B-But there was so much blood…” Logan spoke, his voice was quiet.

“We had to give him stitches yes, but majority of what you saw was from his mouth, he coughed it due to trauma.” She noted, allowing him to read it off the clipboard she had. “However, it would be in your best interest to take him to the orthodontist. One of his teeth was knocked out, luckily it was a baby tooth that happened to be stubborn, but braces will be needed for the one that was above it, to come down.”

The teacher nodded, softly, forcing a smile. The guilt in his stomach was still festering. Had he been more alert he could’ve stopped it, he could have done something. If he had taken action the first time something happened with Virgil maybe, maybe he could’ve prevented this from happening.

But he forced those thoughts away, he’d done enough crying, Patton couldn’t see him like this, neither could Virgil. And hell if he was about to cry in front of Joan, they’d never let him live it down.

“Thank you so much, for taking care of my boy.” Logan replied, giving her a nod.

Virgil was put in a private room, and Logan took a breath as he opened the door, Patton was talking softly to Virgil, holding his hand.

“They sedated him so he’s a bit out of it.” Patton told him.

“Hey, Logan! _Ow_.” He whined, he was holding his other arm, which was resting under the blanket they’d given him. “Why am I here? I don’- I don’t remember coming here…” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You fell down some stairs.” Patton told him.

Virgil laughed, a childlike giggle, and Logan couldn’t help but smile a little. “Was it funny? I bet it was. Like in TV.”

“We were scared.” Logan replied simply.

Virgil's eyes widened. “Why? Did I die?” He asked, shocked. “I can’t be dead, you know why?” He asked, looking at Patton, who was uncomfortable at the thought.

“Why?” He asked, to humour the teenager.

“Because dead people don’t feel things.” He laughed again before groaning. “Everything _hurts_ , dad.” Virgil whined, flopping his head back into the pillow, before scrunching up his facial features.

“Kiddo, don’t do that, you have a concussion!” Patton scolded him.

Logan shifted on his feet. “Darling, can I have a word with him alone for a moment?” He asked Patton, who nodded, kissing Virgil on the forehead, no matter his protests, and leaving to go find Joan and Talyn.

Logan sat in the chair Patton was in before. “Virgil, do you know what happened?”

“No? What happened?”

“The kids said you were pushed down the stairs, do you know who did it?” Logan asked.

Virgil gasped. “I got pushed?”

Logan sighed, trying to form his words, he wanted, no, he _needed_ to know what happened. He needed to know who was at fault, then maybe he would stop blaming himself. “Yeah, sweetheart what do you remember?”

“I was walking to class, I think, maybe I tripped?” That was a lie, Logan knew it immediately.

He pushed some hair out of Virgil's face. “Please Virgil, you need to tell me the truth.”

The teenager huffed out a breath of air, unsure of what to say, unsure whether he should tell the teacher or not. “Nathair, he stopped me. I don’t remember much after that.”

“That little bastard.” Logan muttered. “Thank you, I know that took trust.”

If he did something after their first fight, if he tried to solve the problem instead of getting mad at Virgil, if he’d taken action against the bully, then Virgil wouldn’t be here now. Then Virgil wouldn’t be in pain.

Virgil would be fine.

If he had just stayed away, if he had just ignored his feelings for Patton, if he left when he wanted to.

Virgil wouldn’t be here. Virgil wouldn’t be hurt.

It was his fault. It was always Logan’s fault.

“He said…” Virgil frowned, trying to remember, as he continued on, ignoring Logan’s response. “He said you didn’t love me, I told him I knew that already. A-And I said you weren’t my dad, I didn’t want him to go for you. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it!” Virgil was crying now, tears streaming down the side of his face.

“Virgil, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you, besides, I’m not your Dad, Patton is.” Logan smiled softly, wiping his son’s tears away.

There was a moment of silence, Virgil’s mood seemed to shift every second, so there was no way that Logan could’ve predicted what this boy would come out with next.

“Papa?” He piped up.

Logan sighed, putting on a fake smile and turning to the boy. “Yes, Virgil?”

“When are you gonna marry my Dad? When you marry him who wears the dress? Do I have to? I don’t wanna wear one.” He blurted out, and Logan had to restrain his laughter and his shock.

“You don’t have to wear a dress.” He replied, smiling properly now, guilt still heavy on his heart as he stared at the stitches in Virgil's head.

Virgil glanced at him excitedly. “So, you’re gonna get married?”

“I- I don’t know.” Logan replied, honestly, he doubted Virgil would remember much of their conversation anyway.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No! You’re supposed to say _I do_ back.”

“But I'm not marrying you.”

“Thank fuck.”

 

****

* * *

 

 

Virgil huffed out a breath of air as he walked through the school gates.

His arm was in a plaster cast, which had been graffitied by his family and Roman. Talyn did some kitty doodles, Joan wanted to draw something crude but Patton took the sharpie from him, so they ended up just writing a poem. Logan wrote his favourite equation on it, and Patton drew a smiley face.

The metal on his teeth felt weird, he got his braces put on, just the day before, they knocked him out before he could answer, so Patton told the dentist his favourite colour was purple. So now he had purple braces that were hurting his mouth as he was trying to adjust to it.

Nathair had gotten expelled, Virgil was told they could press charges for assault and battery, but he didn’t want to cause him anymore trouble.

Sure, he injured Virgil, but the teenager was sure that he had enough problems already.

He was still foggy on what happened the day he was pushed. Everything hurt his head to think about. He was on scheduled doses of Tylenol to help the effects of the concussion.

Almost immediately Roman ran up to him, excited to tell him something. He blabbered on about what was happening today in Drama. Virgil could only nod, still self-conscious about his braces, unsure of how he felt. He just knew he wasn’t confident.

“Why aren’t you talking?” Roman asked, finally catching onto the pattern of nods.

Virgil just shrugged, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

Before he could stop him, Roman poked at his mouth, and laughed feeling the metal behind Virgil’s top lip. “You got braces!” He squealed excitedly. “Show me, show me!”

Virgil shook his head.

“Aw come on, I already know they’re there. I'm not gonna make fun of you for it.” Roman bargained.

Virgil huffed out a breath. “There you go, happy?” He asked, pulling a fake smile, shutting his mouth before too long..

“You got purple! That’s so cute!” He clapped his hands together like a child, jumping on the spot a little.

“Psst, Ro, your gay is showing.” Virgil jabbed him in the side.

Roman scoffed, flipping his hair out of his face. “I'm not gay, just fabulous!” Virgil laughed, as the bell rang and they walked to homeroom, people kept trying to stop him to ask what happened but he kept his mouth shut, choosing to shrug, or wait for Roman to answer.

“Are you implying you can’t be both?” He replied, and Roman shrugged, flopping down into his chair.

“Are we still working on the project today?” The prince asked. “I need to know so I can text my grandma.”

“Yeah, why would we not be?” Virgil responded, confused. 

Roman rolled his eyes, gesturing to Virgil’s arm, poking the weird family crest he’d drawn on the cast. “Because you’re injured.”

“Yeah, from being your friend.” The taller boy replied, pulling his arm away and setting it on the desk. The cast made his arms heavy and after a while it started to hurt.

“That hurts, Virge.” The prince placed a hand on his chest, faking offense.

“Oh goody.” Virgil replied, rolling his eyes.

Roman smiled. “So, your place then?”

“Sure, it’s like a twenty-minute walk, that alright?”

“Yeah, I need the exercise.” The prince declared, and Virgil glanced down at his body, there wasn’t anything wrong with it as far as he was concerned.

He looked good in his jackets that was certain.

Virgil turned his head away, shaking it as if it would get rid of his thoughts. “If you say so.” He replied and Roman stuck his tongue out.

The walk to Virgil's house was quiet, they were just enjoying each other’s presence for the most part. It was nice.

The air was brisk in January, whilst Patton had practically begged him to wear a coat, he still ignored him, choosing to bring only a beanie instead. So now he was shivering, pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands in attempt to keep them warm. He was wearing his purple and black hoodie, the one with the stitched patches, and whilst it was thick, it wasn’t warm enough.

Roman had a deep grey overcoat on. It wasn’t his usual warm toned jackets but it looked good on him.

“You cold, brace-face?” He asked.

Virgil hit him in the arm for the nickname, but he smiled nonetheless. “A little, but its not t-to bad.” He cursed himself as a gust of cold air blew past and his teeth began to chatter.

“Gimme your hand.” Roman asked, and Virgil did, albeit confused as to why.

The prince simply interlocked their fingers, before dropping their hands to their sides.

Virgil's face flushed. Were they really holding hands right now?

Romans hand was warm, soft, in comparison to Virgil's cold, calloused palms. It wasn’t much better but it gave some warmth.

He let go of Romans hand when their reached the front gate of their house. To his knowledge, Patton had taken the day off, emotional stress is what he called it, but Virgil knew it was just to meet Roman.

Then it hit him as he noticed Logan’s car out the front, and he stopped abruptly before they reached the door.

“Wait.” He said.

Roman tilted his head to the side. “What?”

“I, um, I have something to tell you, before we go in here. It’s just, uh…” He paused, looking down at his feet. “I have two dad’s!” Virgil blurted out. “Just gotta rip it off, like a band-aid.” He muttered to himself rubbing a hand over his face before looking up to judge Roman’s reaction.

He was silent for a moment before speaking. “So?”

Virgil stared at the prince. “Don’t you find it weird?”

“Why would I? If you hadn’t noticed, Doctor Gloom, I don’t have the most nuclear family either.” Roman laughed. “So are we just gonna stand here or?”

“Oh right, yeah.” Virgil laughed, letting out a small breath of relief as he opened the door. “Dad! Papa! We’re home!” He called out into the house.

“Hey kiddo!” Patton called from the kitchen as Virgil told Roman where to put his coat.

“This is Roman.” He told the older man, taking a seat on the breakfast bar.

Roman smiled at Patton, before looking at Virgil. “Virgil! You never told me you had a brother! Quite a handsome one too.” He laughed as Virgil hit him in the shoulder.

“Sorry Princey, he’s mine.” A voice came from behind them and Virgil laughed as all the colour drained from Roman’s face as Logan walked round the kitchen island, placing a kiss to Patton's temple.

“Papa, you know Roman, I’m sure. We’re gonna work up in my room.” Virgil grinned, grabbing a still stunned Roman by the wrist and pulling him up the stairs.

Roman finally managed to speak once they were in Virgil’s room. “Okay, two dads, that’s fine. You coulda’ told me one of them was Dr-Freaking-Sanders!” Roman cried and Virgil laughed. The prince groaned covering his face with his hands. “How am I ever gonna do history after this?”

“You shouldn’t have flirted with my Dad, idiot.” Virgil replied poking his tongue out at the prince.

Roman huffed out a strained sigh as he flopped onto Virgil's bed. “Even more so, you call Dr Sanders, Papa?”

“Yeah Roman. And you call your Grandma, Grammy, and she calls you Ro-Ro. You can’t talk.” Virgil replied simply.

“Touché.”

They worked on the project for a bit, organise who would play what part and what the overall narrative of it was, which wasn’t too hard since their act would be based on real events.

Though, Roman being Roman, had to dramatize it a bit.

After they got most of what they needed done, Virgil decided to let them take a break, he ended up showing Roman his Walkman.

That was a big deal for him, because it was one of the most important things he’d ever been given. But nonetheless he allowed Roman to use it and to listen to his music.

He smiled as Roman wore the headphones, bopping his head up and down to the soft rhythm of his Monkees CD. Patton had given it to him around Halloween, and despite not wanting to take it, it was one of his favourites.

Virgil couldn’t seem to get his head around how the Prince made even the smallest of movements beautiful.

But he should’ve caught himself sooner because Roman was staring back at him now, the headphones around his neck, with the music still flowing out of them softly.

The taller boy wanted to look away, he really did but he was stuck there, paralysed, his face flushed red.

Roman smiled. “You know I’ve been wondering, since you have braces now, how it would feel to do this.”

Suddenly Virgil was being pulled forward by the zip of his hoodie, and Roman’s lips collided into his own. He went stiff for a moment, before closing his eyes, adjusting himself slightly and melting into it.

Romans hand found Virgil's hair, and Virgil rested his palm on the prince’s chest.

Virgil had to stop himself from whining as Roman pulled away. His cheeks were tinted pink as he looked at Virgil with a grin.

“Huh, there doesn’t seem to be a difference.”

“You should do it again to check.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school is kicking my ass, but I have a lot of things to procrastinate from, so here you go, ya nerds. 
> 
> it would've been up sooner, but we were getting new internet so yknow 
> 
> trigger warnings   
> mentions of past abuse  
> mentions of scars
> 
> also, if any of you dorks are interested in my art, my Instagram is shiverfawkes, I do shitloads of sanders sides stuff.

It went without saying that Roman was visiting more often. Almost every day after school the two boys were together, whether it was studying or walking carbon or going to the movies. They seemed to be joined at the hip.

Patton was happy that Virgil had such a good friend.

He and Logan had been doing well as of recent. Logan seemed to be adjusting to Patton as his boyfriend, the Patton who loved cute nicknames and spoiling him, who cuddled up to him as they watched a crime show. In the same way that Patton was now used to Logan, who was keener on physical contact, calling him _dear_ and _darling_ , pressing little kisses to his forehead and cheeks every now and then, and playing with his hair when they went to sleep.

They were happy together, and it’s what Patton had wanted for a long time.

They cooked together sometimes, and even though Logan was a man of science, baking made no sense to him, but Patton was determined to help him get better.

He brought Logan to his therapy after he got home from work on Friday’s. Roman and Virgil were usually out at the movies. Logan had decided to keep it from Virgil, that he was going to therapy, instead choosing to refer to it as a date night.

It wasn’t a full lie, because Patton always took him out for food afterwards.

Virgil was up in his room with Roman, they were studying, or just jamming out to Virgil's music.

Patton smiled, moving his hips to the rhythm of The Beach Boys, as he pulled cookies out of the oven. They were _stained-glass_ , Virgil had talked about seeing them online, people crushed Jolly Ranchers and put them in cookie mix.

Probably the unhealthiest thing, but Virgil was still underweight.

Doctors had ordered Patton to make sure he was getting adequate calories and nutrients. He wasn’t sure how good they would be for his braces but in the end it would probably be fine.

So, he made them, mostly for Virgil, but to try them out to see if they’d be any good for the bakery.

Humming to himself he bounced up the stairs, with the cookies on a plate.

He knocked softly. There was no response, and Patton could hear music from the other side of the door. He assumed they just couldn’t hear him, so he opened the door.

Then he froze.

There was Roman, sitting in between Virgil’s legs as the taller boy leant against his head-board, their    lips connected. Fully clothed, thank god.

Virgil had his hands resting on Romans waist, his fingers slotted in the loopholes of the prince’s jeans, and Roman was pulling Virgil closer by his flannel, his other hand on Virgil’s face, caressing his cheek.

Patton's face reddened, embarrassed by the mistake and the discovery. “ _O_ -kay.” Patton said softly to himself, swiftly shutting the door and walking back downstairs, glad they hadn’t noticed him. He was unsure of how to feel.

He was happy, his son was growing up, experiencing things. But he was upset, his son was growing up and experiencing things.

Mostly he was just mortified that he had to walk in on that scene unexpectantly.

Logan was hanging up his scarf, glancing at Patton confused, unsure as to why he was walking _downstairs_ with cookies.

“You okay, dear?” He asked, trailing his hands around the baker’s waist as Patton set the plate down on the breakfast bar.

Logan had been asking him how he was more recently. Patton knew that Logan would know how he was feeling by the way he acted. His therapist had been going over the fact that even though he knows, it’s still nice to ask, because people sometimes need to be asked in order to open up.

When Logan finally left his _parents’_ house, he’d lost all concept on how to interact with anybody other than Patton. The only reason he and Patton worked was because the baker had patience and was willing to let Logan learn. It was difficult for Logan to make good first impressions, it was hard for him to know what he could say and what he couldn’t.

And if he chose to say nothing at all they thought he was rude and unlikeable.  

If they weren’t like Patton, he was lost.

He’d learned more over the years, how to act “normal”, but now it was becoming natural to him.

Patton sighed, glancing up at Logan. “Virgil and Roman are dating.” He said, and Logan looked unphased.

“You didn’t know?” He asked, eyebrow raised over the top of his glasses frame.

“You _did_?” Patton replied, taking a step back. “How even? Did he tell you? Why would he tell you and not me?”

Logan laughed softly, catching his hands and pulling the baker back to him. “Patton, Bear. I’m a psychologist. I read their body language toward one another.” Patton sighed out in relief. “And I saw ‘em holding hands at school.” Logan smirked, and Patton pouted.

“Unfair! You cheate-“ He was cut off as Logan kissed him softly. He resisted an eyeroll and smiled into it, kissing him back. Logan pulled away with a smile on his face as well.

“Got rid of the pout well enough.” The teacher replied with a smile. “So, you’re okay with them dating?”

“Why would I not be? It’s not like I'm against gay people.” Patton replied, emphasising his point by squeezing the area of Logan's waist where his hands were.

Logan rolled his eyes. “No, I meant like, are you okay with Virgil dating, like the act _of_. I personally don’t mind, but we both get a say in it, as his parents.”

Patton bit his lip. Trying to think of how it was when he was a kid.

His parents never really spoke about dating because he’d never shown any interest in it, his only focus when he was Virgil’s age was Logan. He supposed if he was willing to admit that he liked Logan back then, he wouldn’t understand why he couldn’t date him.

“I don’t have an issue with it. He’s old enough to handle himself.” The baker told Logan, who nodded, pulling Patton into a hug for a moment.

“You’re warm.” He explained, and Patton laughed kissing the teacher’s cheek as he pulled away.

“So, do you think I should tell him I know?” Patton asked, handing Logan a cookie, and putting a hand towel over the rest.

Logan shrugged. “I would leave it until he tells you. I think it would freak him out if you just acted really unphased.”

“Like actually make him freak out? Or like confuse him?” Patton flopped onto the sofa, smiling as Carbon jumped up and sat on his legs and Logan lifted his head, placing it on his own lap as he sat down.

“The latter. I wouldn’t suggest anything if I knew it would cause him harm.” The teacher replied. “If he decides to tell us both at the same time, I think it would be amusing if we just changed the subject and moved on.”

Patton laughed. “Yeah. If he wasn’t confused I think it would put him at ease.”

“Nobody loses. You like when that happens.” Logan replied, turning on the TV.

“And you don’t?”

Logan smiled down at him, before looking away again. “I understand that in some things there is good and bad, a person who succeeds and a person who fails. There isn’t a game on earth where everyone wins. But I also know that not everything is a game, so there will be situations where both parties are satisfied. Like the one we proposed just now.” The teacher replied.

“I love it when you talk nerdy.”

“I love that you love it.”

“I hate that both of you are gross!” Virgil cut in as he and Roman walked down the stairs, Roman now had his jacket tied around his waist and Virgil wasn’t wearing his flannel anymore. 

Patton could have laughed out loud, but he refrained, choosing to reply with sarcasm. “Right back at ya!” Patton fired, and Virgil rolled his eyes, but the baker noticed the pink tint on his cheeks.

“His grandma is coming to pick him up, so we’re gonna wait outside.” Virgil gestured to Roman as he spoke.

“Take a cookie! Roman take a couple for your grandparents, sweetheart.” Patton replied, offering them a slightly upside-down smile from the couch.

“Thank you, Mr Heart!” Roman replied, slightly muffled through a mouthful of biscuit.

They walked out the door one after the other.

“Romans belt loop is snapped.” Logan spoke the moment the door shut. “I think he was attempting to hide it with the jacket, but not very well.”

Patton laughed. “Must have gotten a bit more-feisty after I left. Virgil isn’t wearing his flannel either.”

“Good observation.” Logan replied, placing a kiss to Patton's lips. “Elementary my dear.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil had been a lot less anxious in school.

He wasn’t sure if it was due to the lack of Nathair’s presence. Or the increasing consistence of Roman’s.

Roman had asked him to be his boyfriend. Of course, he said yes.

He liked the prince a lot more than he’d realised. Being with him felt effortless, weightless, it was comforting. It was what he didn’t know he needed.

Sure, having his family, Dad and Papa to lean on, to help him, was fantastic.

But Roman was just different. An exhilarating type of different that he couldn’t even describe. There didn’t seem to be any pressure, he could just _be_.

And he’d never felt like that before.

He did feel kinda guilty, because he and Roman spent so much time up in Virgil’s room either studying or kissing, that he wasn’t really spending time with his dad’s anymore.

 So, he approached Roman in the grounds of the school, before the bell rang for homeroom. It was cold, and Patton had forced him to wear his coat this time. It was a slim sort of puffer jacket with fluff on the hood.

Roman pressed a kiss to his lips the moment he was close enough. Virgil loved and hated when he did that, because it still caught him by surprise. Once he clocked what was happening he smiled, kissing him back softly. “Good morning!” He said cheerfully when he pulled away, successfully making Virgil blush as red as the prince’s own bomber jacket.

“Hey uh, I wanted to ask you something?” Virgil replied, playing with his hands nervously, the plaster-cast made it difficult for him to fidget discreetly but he tried anyway. Roman nodded for him to continue. “I wanna tell my dad.”

Roman paused before replying. “That we’re an item?”

“Uh yeah, that.” Virgil couldn’t help it feeling his cheeks heat up.

He loved being Roman’s boyfriend. It made him smile like an idiot, every time he reminded himself that he was liked, that somebody cared for him. In a different way than he’d ever had before.

“Did you think I’d have an issue with that?” Roman asked, smiling softly.

“No, I just… I don’t know- I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay with it. Its just- I-“ Virgil sighed, unsure of how to form the sentence he wanted. He was grateful that Roman was so patient with him in times like this. Virgil had never really been good at voicing his thoughts and opinions, because before, at his old homes when he tried, nobody cared. They either ignored him or silenced him completely. Though, Roman just assumed it was because the emo didn’t talk much. Virgil would tell him the real reason someday. “I just think that I’m not spending as much time with my parents. Dad and Papa have done so much for me and now I'm shut up in my room with you all the time. I enjoy being with you, but I… I want us all together at once, if that makes any sense.”

Roman nodded. “Of course, that makes sense. I apologise for monopolising your time my dearest storm-cloud.”

Virgil blushed, pressing a kiss to Roman’s forehead. “Thanks, Princey.” He muttered as the shorter boy snaked his arms around Virgil’s waist. He was warm, he always seemed to be, even in the coldest weather.

“Your coat is adorable by the way.” Roman replied softly, the vibrations in his voice tickling Virgil’s neck and he pulled away, shooting the prince a joking scowl. “Don’t make me kiss that scowl off your face! Principle Stokes won’t like the PDA.”

They walked with the sea of students as the bell rang.

Virgil sat at the table when he got home, it was a Thursday, and usually, if possible, Patton liked to have everybody round for dinner on Thursday’s.

They played video-games, ate take-out or sometimes people actually made food. It was nice.

But that wasn’t for another couple hours, and here he was sitting at the table. Planning out how he would say it, planning out what he would say to potential responses. It hurt his head to think about it.

Eventually he got too restless, and grabbed Carbon’s lead, whistling for her, and she came running the moment she saw it in his hand.

Virgil laughed as she jumped up at him. “Sit! Carbon, down! You actual rat, calm yourself.” He ordered, kneeling down to click her leash to her collar. It was more fiddly with one fully able hand, but he managed once he got her to be still.

He’d been ignoring her too as of late, which seemed impossible seeing as she had made the foot of his bed her home. He and Roman had taken her out a few times on walks. He did miss, however, curling up on the couch with her at his side, or laying, listening to music while he pet her head to the rhythm.

Just as he was leaving there was a knock at the door, before it opened. The only person who ever did that was Joan, and sure enough, their signature orange beanie came round the corner into the living room.

“Hey Virge, is Pat home?” They asked, their hands in their jacket pockets.

“No, he’s still at work.” Virgil replied. “I was gonna take her on a walk, its not too far to the bakery.” He gestured to Carbon, and they nodded.

“You want me to come with?” They asked.

Virgil grinned. “If you wanna come with?”

“Sure, I’ll come with.” Joan replied, heading out of the house.

“Alright, I guess you’re coming with.” Virgil giggled, following the elder out the door.

“So, how have things been?” Joan asked, as they walked along the sidewalk. Virgil was quite a bit taller than them, it was a strange contrast, because Virgil admired them a lot, placing them on a metaphorical pedestal. Their smarts and their passion for what they love. How quickly they could play a character, and how talented they were overall. If anybody was his idol it would be them. “Y’know, life, school, and I _suppose_ your personal well-being.” They grinned as the teenager scowled at them jokingly.

Virgil shrugged. “Fine I guess, school’s been a bit better since I broke my arm.” He went with the vague notion. It was true as well.

Since he’d broken his arm, Nathair had left, his parents seemed closer than ever, and he was with somebody who made him happier than he thought he would ever be. He was less stressed.

“Since somebody _else_ broke your arm.” Joan corrected him. “That’s good. You seem on edge though, you okay?” Virgil nodded, and they gave him an eyeroll, not believing him for a second. “Tell me what’s up?”

“Promise you won’t tell anybody?” Virgil asked, and Joan nodded. He knew he could trust them anyway, they were a moral person, the only reason they’d tell a secret of his would be if it was legitimately dangerous. So, he took a breath before replying. “I uh, I’m dating my best friend.”

Joan placed a hand to their chest, gasping in fake offence. “I thought I was your best friend? Oh god, what will I tell Talyn!? I cannot believe I've been cheating on them! With you of all people!” They cried, and Virgil rolled his eyes, shoving them a little. “Who’s the lucky person?”

“His name is Roman. He’s the kid who I stood up for that day. He’s my only friend.” Virgil replied, smiling at the ground.

“He’s your boyfriend.” Joan added, and Virgil nodded, blushing slightly, still flustered even by the word.

Joan didn’t even seem phased by the fact that it was a boy and not a girl. They didn’t show any reaction.

If it was anybody else he’d ever known. His biological parents, his foster parents, his siblings, they would have beat the shit out of him if he dated _anyone_ , it gave him shivers when he thought about their reactions to a _boy_.

“Yeah. I-I like him a lot and I wanted to tell Dad and Papa.” The younger spoke. “I just don’t know how they’ll react, y’know?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, and if it’s not, then Talyn and I love you a lot. You’re like our kid too, well… A nephew maybe, no… Little brother! That’s what I'm looking for. So, if they react badly we’ll take you in.” Joan told him, and he gave a weary smile.

“I’m not worth that amount of trouble, honestly. Dad is just too nice for his own good.” Virgil replied, closing his fist around his cast.

Joan laughed, but not meanly. “You seem to forget that it’s not just Patton that cares about you. Its understandable why you think that though. He’s the one that took you out of a foster home and into a real one. But, if you ever need anything by whatever means, I’m here, and so is Talyn.”

Virgil nodded, remembering that Joan didn’t know about his past, Joan just thought his anxiety was because of his biological parents. Whilst it was, it was worsened by everything else that came after.

Maybe they deserved to know. It was a lie of omission, but Virgil still felt guilty about it.

“Uh, Joan?”

“Virgil?”

“I didn’t come from foster care.” They gestured for him to continue, looking at him curiously. “I mean I did, but Patton didn’t go to a foster home to get me. I was homeless for about four months. My foster family kicked me out before my fourteenth birthday and shipped me on a bus here, so they could say I just ran away. _That’s_ where Patton found me, on the street.” Virgil spoke.

“What the fuck? Who does that to a kid!” Joan cried angrily.

Virgil shrugged. “I was having a panic attack, and they realised something was wrong with me. They didn’t care about whatever it was, they just didn’t want to deal with it. They only kept us for the money anyway.”

“Us?”

“There was about five or six of us I think. Me, Lola, Sammy, Katie, Johnny and… Thomas.” Virgil listed, counting on his fingers, trying not to leave anybody out. “Six of us. Thomas was maybe ten years older than me, I never saw him much.”

Joan nodded, their expression serious. “Does Patton know about this?”

“He knows the gist of it, more than anybody, except maybe you now.” Virgil replied. “Logan just thinks I came from care, same with Talyn.”

“Does anybody else know?”

Virgil paused for a minute to think. Talyn knew about his scars, he supposed he’d told this much, telling them that couldn’t hurt. “Talyn knows, uh… I have scars on my back, those, _people,_ treated me like a stress reliever, whether it was beating me up, or they had a riding crop, maybe it was a cane? But they liked to hit me with that. Talyn saw the marks, but I uh, I didn’t tell them what they were from.”

“And I'm the only person who knows all of it?” Joan asked, adjusting their beanie.

“Yeah…”

“Do you know who did this to you? Their names I mean.”

Virgil didn’t know the relevance. “Uh… They were the Norton’s, Eddie and Julie.” It felt good to talk about it all.

“Alright. Cool. Just know that that’s never going to happen here, not with me, not Talyn, not Patton and not Logan. Only a coward would hit a child. And we’re the bravest people you’ll meet.” Joan grinned, nudging the teenager a little.  

“Thanks.” He responded simply.

That was enough for them though. And they continued their walk. They discussed video games, and the teenagers new love for them. Joan rambled about comic books and superheroes and was outraged at Virgil’s lack of knowledge.

They talked about Patton and Logan and Talyn, laughing at the things each did and didn’t know.

It was nice.

He was enjoying things.

Everything was off his chest. Well, not everything. But most of them.

Virgil didn’t know if he’d _ever_ be able to share everything with anyone he knew.

Anyone at _all_.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk this might be boring, but whatever, I needed to put it in to avoid an abrupt time skip. 
> 
> next chapter should be a bit more exciting, I promise. Im gonna try and add fluff to it, but I know for a fact there will be angst, so y'know. 
> 
> no real trigger warnings for this one. 
> 
> (school is fucking killing me, i have so much overdue math homework)

Virgil was sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of pizza at his side, he was on his phone, away from the others scattered around the living room.

He was nervous, not on the verge of a panic attack, but he was slowly climbing that peak.

So, he was texting Roman.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but Roman just seemed to calm him down.

Giving up as his hands began to shake too much to type properly, he got up, making some excuse before running up the stairs to his room.

Letting out a shaky breath, he held his phone up to his face, listening to it ring. The ringing stopped and Roman’s voice could be heard from the other line.

“Hey, storm-cloud, how you coping?” He asked.

“I’m scared, Ro.”

“Scared of what, baby? Rationalise, take slow breaths. Your parents are gay, they can’t have anything against that.”

“I-I dunno…” Virgil replied, he didn’t wanna talk about his past right now. He didn’t want to bring up why he was scared right now. He regretted taking up Roman’s time. “Thank y-you. I’m sorry for wasting your t-time. It was st-stupid.” He stammered. He was sitting on the bed and pushed his back against the wall.

A small sigh came from Roman’s end and the emo shut his eyes, knowing he’d disappointed somebody, yet again. “Virgil, you’re my boyfriend. I care about you, and if you need me I will be there. It’s gonna work out fine storm-cloud. I know it will.”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything.

He didn’t know what Virgil had gone through to get here. He didn’t know how Virgil was thinking. He didn’t know how _bad_ Virgil’s thoughts were.

He couldn’t feel the fear rising in Virgil’s throat. He couldn’t remember the screams of anger and the searing pain on his back. He couldn’t know what it was like to be in that place, to be in Virgil’s place.

But he cared enough to reassure him. He cared enough to even try and understand.

Roman cared, and Joan said if things didn’t work out, they’d have his back.

Even if things didn’t go the way he wanted, he’d be okay.

“Thanks P-Princey.” Virgil replied, pulling his knees to his chest, he had a soft smirk on his face.

A small giggle sounded from the speakers and Virgil smiled. “You feeling better?” Roman asked softly, his voice wasn’t as nice over the phone.

Virgil let out a breath. “Y-Yeah.”

“Well, get going J.D-lightful.” Roman replied and Virgil shook his head, confused at the nickname, but smiling nonetheless.

“See ya tomorrow Sir Sing-a-lot.” The emo replied, standing up, smoothing out his hoodie.

Roman laughed, and Virgil could picture the blush on his face from the other end of the phone. “Bye!”

Feeling a bit better, Virgil walked down the stairs, and the room was just as he left it, calmer now somehow.

“Uhm, I figured considering we’re all here, I’d tell you guys something.” He spoke up, clearing his throat.

They’d ordered Pizza, so everybody was sitting around the living room, either on their phones or showing something to each other before they begun their first game of uno. The TV was on, playing reruns of old shows as background noise, nobody seemed to be watching.

Talyn was surprisingly good at the game, for reasons they wouldn’t share. But Virgil had been battling Roman all week trying to get better. If he couldn’t beat them at the game that was fine, but he wanted to show them he was good.

Their rounds usually occurred with Logan and Joan competing for intellect and superiority, Patton trying not to be mean to anyone (but usually playing his plus cards to Logan) and Virgil trash talking everyone even though he was usually the first to lose.

If he had to guess, Talyn won every time because nobody ever rivalled them directly.

Joan was sitting in Logan’s armchair scrolling through emails, with their legs over the arm. Talyn was laying on the rug with carbon laying over the top of them. Logan was laying between Patton’s legs, the back of his head on Patton’s chest. And Patton was showing Logan a video of a cat trying to grab its owner’s hands.

They all paused what they were doing and looked at him.

Oh god, all eyes were on him now. Now, people are expecting him to speak up. “And now I’m regretting that decision but here we go.” He muttered to himself before looking up, pulling down his sleeves over his hands. “So, uh, I have a boyfriend, I'm dating Roman.” He said, managing not to stammer, even though his hands were shaking.

Patton looked at him, before smiling. “That’s nice Rabbit, you wanna see this video? The cat is so cute!” He asked, changing the subject immediately, holding the phone out to face him.

“I’m not one for animals, but the video is quite pleasing.” Logan added with a nod.

Virgil paused, unsure of what to do. They didn’t care?

They didn’t give a response, they didn’t yell, they didn’t… They didn’t do anything.

Weren’t they supposed to do something? Why were they being so nonchalant about it?

Virgil took the phone off him with shaking hands. He couldn’t even watch the video, so he just locked the phone and fidgeted with the case. “But- You didn’t- Aren’t you gonna say something?” He asked.

“What d’you mean, kiddo?” Patton asked, turning slightly more toward him. Talyn had sat up now intrigued, but Logan and Joan didn’t appear to care.

It made sense for them, but Logan _didn’t_ know.

He sighed, pulling his hood up, the warmth comforting. Logan had told him he could do it any time he needed if it helped, if it made him feel safer. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from them. “A-About Roman, about him and I dating. You- You don’t care? You’re not mad?” He asked.

“Do you want me to yell or something? Lo’ and I are cool with it, you’re a teenager, you gotta experience stuff at some point.” Patton replied, his tone was soft.

He didn’t understand.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Virgil muttered, as he felt tears slipping down his face, hidden slightly by the shadow of his hood.  “I dunno, I just… Uh, thanks I guess.”

Patton smiled at him, pushing up his glasses. “C’mere Rabbit.” He said, and Logan sat up, so the baker could hug the younger boy. He pulled Virgil so the younger boy’s chin rested on his shoulder. “I know what you were expecting. But this is me, this is Logan, and you’re our son. You can do and be whatever you want as long as you aren’t hurting anybody.”

Virgil pulled away, nodding softly, rolling his eyes as Logan handed him a handkerchief to dry his eyes with. He took it anyway, poking Logan’s glasses up his face, with a triumphant smirk as the teacher stuck his tongue out.

Talyn lay back down before talking, breaking the lack of conversation. “How long have you been dating?” They asked, pushing Carbon away as she tried to lick their face.

He thought for a moment, before noticing the metal in his mouth. He’d become a lot more used to them over the course that he’d had them. “Uh, since I got my braces.” Virgil replied, tapping his mouth.

“So, like a month?” Joan asked, looking up from their phone.

Virgil nodded, lifting Logan’s legs to sit on the couch. “Uh-huh.” He replied, handing Patton’s phone to Logan.     

“Cool. Who’s up for uno?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was a couple months later, April had dawned upon Lewisburg, and Easter break was approaching readily.

Virgil’s cast had been taken off, his arm now free. It felt odd and his arm constantly felt oddly cold, but he was sure he’d get used to it over time.  

A lot of questions still lingered in his head, the events of the break still fuzzy in his mind, he was still taking medicine for his concussion, he wasn’t sure when it would go away, and the doctors couldn’t confirm it either. He had to go back every two weeks for check-ups.

He hated those.

Braces still prominent in his mouth, he was getting them off in July as far as he was aware.

“We’re going to my mom’s for Easter, the creek is nice this time of year.” Patton told him, as he was doing homework.

Patton and Logan were chilling on the couch, Patton was knitting, and Logan was sifting through history papers he had to mark.

Virgil probably could be doing his homework in a more comfortable seat, but he had his notes spread out over the table.

“The creek?” Virgil asked, glancing up at him.

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses. “It’s actually a small lake in the middle of a forest. But Patton grew up calling it the creek, so it stuck.”

Virgil nodded, turning back to his English work.

“You can ask Roman to come if you’d like, and his family are okay with it.” Logan added. They’d warmed up to Roman over the course of the few months they’d known him.

It made Virgil happy.

Logan had somewhat of a rivalry with the prince, playfully arguing, but in a somehow different way than Virgil and the teacher did. Somehow Roman managed to overcome the dad-flirting-incident, and he and Patton got along quite well, due to their mutual love of Disney and cute animals.

Having Roman round felt normal.

“Yeah, if he’s cool with it.” Virgil replied. “I’ll call him, hold on a sec.” He added, grabbing his phone and running up the stairs.

“ _Hel_ -lo?” Roman spoke once he picked up, his tone was cheerful, and Virgil smiled.

“Hey Princey. We’re going to my grandparents for Easter. No joke their house is so cool, they have an attic room and everything. Dad and Papa said you could come if your grandparents are cool with it.” He replied, he spoke quite fast in general, but he was kinda excited about it.

“Whoah, slow your role, storm-cloud. You want me to come with you for Easter break?” Roman asked, his voice considerably slower. He had a higher voice than Virgil did, quiet animated and excitable compared to Virgil’s low growl.

“Yeah, you don’t have to come, but the offer is there.” The emo replied, smiling to himself, it sounding like what Patton used to say to him.

“I’ll come if Grammy says yes. But..”

“But?”

“I need to tell her we’re dating. She doesn’t know yet.”

“You want me to come over, I’ll hold your hand?” He joked, and he could practically hear Roman sticking his tongue out at him from over the phone.  “And hey! Maybe, if Dad’s there it would help persuade her to let you go with us.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Roman replied sheepishly, Virgil could read the nerves in his voice, he was scared.

But calming Roman down came in humour and sarcasm. “Look who’s anxious now?”

“Oh, shut up.” The prince laughed, and Virgil smiled softly, hearing his voice steady out a little bit over the line.

He pushed himself off the wall. “I’ll be over in ten.”

“Bye!”

“Later babe.” Virgil smirked as Roman made indecipherable noises of protest.

Virgil practically bounced down the stairs. “Dad can you drive me to Roman’s? He needs to tell his grandma we’re dating, and you need to come as persuasion to let him come with us.”

“Coolio, just let me finish this row and I’ll be there.” Patton replied, still working at his knitting, and Logan tossed the car keys to Virgil.

Somehow he managed to catch them.

Tentatively, Virgil knocked on the door, unsure as to whether he’d gotten the right house.

But when the door opened, and a pair of arms flung around him, he knew he got it right. Roman’s head rested on his chest, and Virgil laughed lightly, holding him back.

“Well as much as this is nice, we do have things to do Princey.” The taller boy said, and reluctantly, Roman let go, welcoming him and Patton into the house.

He was dressed more casually than Virgil had ever seen him. He wore skinny fitted tracksuit bottoms and a floral print t-shirt. His hair was less tidy than it usually was, and he had more defined eyebags than usual. He looked cute, tired, but adorable nonetheless.  

“So, you live with your grandparents?” Patton asked, looking around at the quaint decorations, taking in the homely feel of the house. It was similar to his childhood home, and dare he say it, his current one.

Although Prince was just a name, Patton somehow expected a castle, or a mansion of Roman. Something white and spacious, pristine.

Not a terraced home in a neighbourhood of hundreds.

Roman nodded. “Lived here all my life.” He replied with a smile. “Grammy! Virgil’s here!” He called as they walked into the living room.

“Hey Virgil! And- Virgil's dad? What brings you here?” Claire asked, glancing up, the chain on her glasses swaying.

“Uh yes Grammy I-“

“Mrs Downing?” Patton cut in, tilting his head to the side. She looked at him, her eyes widening as she noticed his features more clearly. “Sorry- uh-“ He laughed a little. “It’s me, Patton Heart, Jane Heart’s son.” He explained excitedly, hoping to get the message across.

“Well I’ll be damned! If it isn’t little Patty!” She stood up excitedly. “So, this is where you ended up?” She added, bringing him in for a hug.

“Kiddo, Claire was my homeroom teacher in freshman year, before I moved from Jersey.” Patton explained, he was grinning from ear to ear. “Small world, huh?”

“Must be.” Virgil muttered. He clenched his hand into a fist, resisting his urge to take Roman’s hand in his own.

“So, what can I do for you?” She asked, gesturing for them to sit down.

Roman cut in before either of the Heart’s could speak. “Well uh, Grammy I wanted to tell you, that…” He coughed, staring at the floor. This was a different side of Roman that Virgil had never seen before, scared, nervous, his confidence fading away. “Virgil and I are boyfriends.” He spoke quietly.

“That’s wonderful sweetheart! You two go well together, I do have to say.” Claire smiled, folding her glasses up, setting them on the sideboard. “You know how your Grand-dad is, so I’ll keep it on the down-low for ya.” She laughed.

Roman physically straightened up, a smile on his face.

“We were also gonna ask if you minded Roman tagging along with us over Easter break. We’re heading up to my parent’s house, and Virgil is the youngest there, his Papa and I thought it’d be nice to have some company.” Patton replied, going full parent mode, less childlike and giggly.

“Oh sure! I’d be glad to get him out of the house!” Claire laughed softly. “I don’t want any funny business though. I'm warning you sweetheart.” Her tone was sweet, but her words were threatening, and Virgil felt intimidated.

Roman placed his reddening face in his hands, and Virgil laughed, leaning against him gently. “Ugh, Grammy, you just had to make it weird.” He groaned.

“Normal is boring, honey.”

“True that. Right, we best be off, I have knitting to finish, c’mon kiddo. Roman, Virgil will text you the details.” Patton got up, gesturing for Virgil to follow, and Roman got up to show them out.

Patton headed for the car, but Roman caught Virgil’s hand by the tips of his fingers, pulling him back gently, looking up at him. “No goodbye kiss, storm-cloud?”

“You’re such a dork.” Virgil replied, cupping Roman’s cheek as the prince stood on his toes to kiss him.

Roman pulled away with a giggle and the taller boy rolled his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to the prince’s forehead. “Yeah but I'm your dork, nerd!” He called as Virgil walked down the path.

“In your dreams, Princey!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CUTE SHIT AND SAD SHIT ! NOT IN THAT ORDER ! DONT HATE ME
> 
> also, let me know if you think i should do more stuff with Patton and Virgil. I've been focusing on Logan a lot, but idk if it balances. 
> 
> trigger warnings:  
> abuse scars  
> self harm scars

 

Roman was happy.

He hadn’t been for a while.

He hadn’t been happy at all.

The worst part of it was that he didn’t know why he wasn’t happy.

Everybody expected him to be, he had a wonderful life, and despite the distinct lack of parents, he was doing fine. He had no reason to be anything other than happy.

But he wasn’t. He just wasn’t.

He didn’t know when it started. He had no fucking idea when it would end. God, he wished it would be soon.

To make an educated guess he thought maybe it was when he was told about what happened to his parents. Whilst it wasn’t a drastic event in his life, it was the most plausible cause.

Learning about their car crash was not something he really needed to know. He cursed himself for asking so persistently about it. His grandparents didn’t want to tell him, that really should have been enough reason to stop asking, to stop pressuring them.

When he thought about his parents he didn’t think of much. He’d seen photos of them, his father looked nice enough, he had round glasses and a bead with a mixture of white and ginger, he smiled in every photo, he was always the one holding him.. But his mother was nothing like what he would have expected, she was a business woman, hair tied up, dressed professionally always, unsmiling in every photo.

They died when he was little, unspeaking level of little, he didn’t even know their voices.

What did he have to miss?

What did he have to be hurt over?

Why was he such a fucking screw up?

Who gets sad over people they didn’t even know? How much of a prick do you have to be?

It was to the point where he was stuck in an endless cycle of self-hatred. Hating himself for hating himself for hating himself. He was stuck there spiralling.

False confidence was his way of hiding it, if he acted cocky, dramatic, like he didn’t care what people thought, if he made himself a joke, throwing himself out there, then nobody would know.

He could hide it from everyone, his family, his teachers, his friends, or lack thereof.

Broken bones certainly didn’t help his façade, he never wanted to blame Nathair, knowing that telling would make everything so much worse. So, he instead chose to make excuses, though, that was probably why it happened so much.

Truthfully he was glad that Nathair was gone, that fucking snake couldn’t touch Virgil or Roman himself anymore.

He sat in the car, with his boyfriend and his family. Virgil had fallen asleep, leaning against him, holding his hand, he managed to convince Patton to let him sit in the middle seat, so they could watch a film on Roman’s phone. Logan had passed out once Patton took over driving, leaning against his hand, pressed up against the window.

Carbon was laying in the seat beside Virgil, her head on his leg, and his hand on her head, he’d been petting her before he fell asleep.

So, it was just him and Patton, the two of them awake, listening to the hum of the car engine and Led Zepplin play softly through the speakers as they sped down the highway.

It was content.

Virgil was warm.

And that was as far as his thought process would go.

He didn’t know what it was, but Virgil just made him so happy. It didn’t have to be anything special, just being with him, holding him, talking and laughing. It just felt good to be there.

Sure, it didn’t magically get rid of it all. He still had doubt. He still had hatred. He still had those moments where he couldn’t make himself do anything other than stare at the ceiling for hours on end.

But with Virgil there were moments of pure bliss, of chest aching laughter and face hurting smiles. Even just the moments of holding hands under the table at lunch, eating one handed, in silence were nicer than sitting in silence by himself, or with Remy on his phone across the table.

He was in a school full of people, yet he always felt alone.

But with one person at his side, this unknown sort of warmth in his chest and the swirls in his stomach, it was content.

With Virgil there was content.

He liked that.

He was shaken awake after enough time, outside a detached house.

“Ro, get your ass up.” Virgil shook him by the shoulder. “We’re here.”

Groaning, he pushed himself up, grabbing his backpack and Virgil’s own, throwing them over his shoulders. Virgil sighed as he saw him and Roman stuck his tongue out, the taller boy had the dog and dog bed in hand anyway.

“How long was I asleep?” He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“I dunno, I woke up like ten minutes before we got here. Sorry for leaning on you.” Virgil replied, laughing softly.

“At least an hour, honey.” Patton told him as they walked up the drive. “Logan beat you, feel threatened.”

Logan laughed. “In my defence, I had a ton of late nights, so I don’t have to worry about marking over the break.”

Roman felt his stomach twist, knowing full well that Logan did most of his marking in free periods, knowing full well that he’d finished his marking in the last cover period he’d taken. He knew because he’d been in that cover class.

It made him uneasy, why would he lie about that?

And why was he staying up late then?

“You feeling better at least?” Virgil asked.

“Quite.” The teacher replied, his eyebags seemed to say otherwise but Virgil didn’t press it so Roman kept his mouth shut.

“Hey kiddo’s!” Virgil’s Grandma greeted them. “And a newcomer! How many kids are you planning on Patty?” She laughed, nudging her son, and ruffling Virgil’s hair.

“Oh, he’s not ours.” Patton laughed, rolling his eyes.  

Virgil grinned, pressing a kiss to Roman’s temple. “He’s mine.”

“In his dreams Ma’am.” Roman rolled his eyes, pushing Virgil off him jokingly.

She smiled, allowing them to walk in. “Well, alrighty. You can decide between you who gets the attic. Peter! Bear’s here!” She called, walking down the halls to grab her husband from wherever he was.

“The attic room is cool once you get used to it.” Virgil told him. “C’mon I’ll show you.” He added, after he let Carbon out the back, hanging her leash on a coat hook.

Roman loved the house, it was similar to his own, bigger yes but just as warm and just as homely, for lack of a better word.

Photos littered the walls and he smiled softly at a photo that caught his eye, the only one with Virgil in it, him and his parents, each of them pressing a kiss to his cheek, as he held up a photo of his bedroom.

The taller boy had told him that story.

The attic room was every Tumblr kid’s dream, fairy lights strung along the wooden beams, old fashioned lightbulbs illuminating the room yellow.

“Its nice.” Roman commented, stumbling as Virgil pulled him closer without warning, smashing their lips together. He decided to go with it despite the suddenness, opening his mouth like he knew Virgil wanted him to. Now he understood the urgency to get to the attic room.

Despite his best efforts Virgil always won when it came to being leader in these types of things.

Virgil held him there even after pulling away, his hands finding the back pockets of Roman’s jeans. “You’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re a flirt.” Roman replied, trying to ignore the fact that his face went up in flames. “What called for that?” He asked with a soft laugh, biting his lip.

The taller boy grinned. “Because I can’t kiss you like _that_ in front of my parents.”

“Well, seeing as we’re here anyway…” Roman trailed off, cursing himself for glancing down at Virgil’s lips yet again, it was his biggest tell.

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the shorter boy’s forehead. “And you call me the flirt.”

 

* * *

 

 

Virgil woke up, Roman him his arms, he managed to pull himself away, the cold air that washed over his bare arms told him it was still early enough for him to sneak back up to the attic room.

They’d devised a plan to sneak out once everyone was asleep. Virgil was gonna join Roman in the spare bedroom to watch a film. They ended up falling asleep, Virgil just thanked his body clock that the operation wouldn’t be blown.

It didn’t hit him until he opened his suitcase that going to the creek required swimming. He stared at the swim trunks in vain.

Suddenly he felt sick.

Patton didn’t know about the scars. He didn’t know about the physical abuse.

Logan didn’t know either.

Roman didn’t know.

His stomach started to turn, his head spinning.

“Oh god.” He covered his mouth with his hands, as his stomach lurched.

Roman would see just how ugly he is, Patton would see how tainted he is, Logan would know how weak he is.

The marks, the raised white lines, the hot pink stripes on his back, stretched only by his shoulder blades. Patton had been doing his best to get him back to a healthy weight, but his ribs bumped out of his chest.

They wouldn’t want him anymore, once they saw all his flaws it would be over.

He sighed to himself, groaning at his own thoughts. “Rationalise.” He growled at himself, running a hand through his hair, flipping the suitcase closed, flopping back on the bed.

This was Patton, the most loving father on the planet.

This was Logan, the person who knew what it was like.

But Roman?

Why would he put up with somebody like Virgil?

Roman was perfect, he was beautiful, he was charming, smart, athletic. He was strong.

He deserved more than a scarred headcase that got more attention than he deserved.

“Rabbit? You awake?” Logan called up, knocking on the latch door in the floor. “We’re getting breakfast soon!”

“I-I’ll be down in a sec!” Virgil stammered, running his hands over his face, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans.

Logan would know what to do, he always knew. If he didn’t, he’d figure something out.

Everyone was down before him.

“Food’ll be done soon, kiddo, take a seat.” Jane, told him, ruffling his hair.

“Thanks Grandma.” Virgil replied, smiling, before it faded. He shot a glance to Logan. “Papa? Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Logan nodded, seeming to understand that something was wrong. “Sure thing.” He replied, standing up, walking out of the kitchen, the teenager followed. “Where?”

“Uh, spare bedroom.” Virgil replied, knowing there was a lock, assuming Logan would want to see the scars.

“Okay.” Logan spoke, once they were alone. “What’s got you worked up. There’s clearly something wrong.”

“I just- Okay so the creek. I'm gonna have to swim.”

“Yes, can’t you? I supposed we should have checked that before we-“

“No I can! It’s that- well- swimming requires you take your shirt off.”

“Yes, so you aren’t weighed down by wet fabric.”

“I have scars… O-On my back. From my old family.” The teenager replied, avoiding eye-contact. “I don’t want- I just- What if you don’t want me anymore?” He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry.

“Virgil, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Virgil raised his head, and Logan grabbed his arms gently.

“You are our son. We love you, cracks and all. When a family have a new-born child, most times, they love that child no matter what. There is no way in hell, that Patton, nor I would ever put you back in care.” He spoke, his voice breaking as he tried not to cry.

Logan never really spoke openly about his emotions. Doing so usually made him cry. So, he disliked it.

Virgil didn’t seem convinced. “But Roman? He- He’s different to you, he doesn’t have to be with me. I don’t want to lose him, Papa. I can’t.”

Logan sighed softly. “Alright, this may help show you.” Carefully he raised his t-shirt exposing his stomach.

It was littered with small white lines raised slightly above the rest of the skin, paler than the slight tan Logan had.

Virgil expected to be the one who had to show.

He could’ve cried there and then, knowing exactly what had driven Logan to have done this to himself.

“You are never alone.” The teacher spoke, dropping the t-shirt down. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “Most of mine are, unlike yours, shameful. Self-inflicted.” He laughed bitterly. “But despite that, Patton stuck with me.”

Virgil bit his lip, before moving swiftly forward, his arms wrapping round the older man’s waist, burying his face in Logan’s shoulder. As if he was scared, Logan finally placed his hands-on Virgil’s back, hugging him in return.

“I know I’m not the greatest parent in the world. With affection and that, but I do care about you, just as Patton does. I hope you know that.” Logan said quietly.

Virgil nodded.

He wanted to say something, _anything_ that could help Logan.

It wasn’t shameful. It wasn’t anything of the sort.

But he couldn’t find the words that would help the older man see that.

“Well,” Logan coughed, pulling away. “They will be wondering where we’ve gone.” He directed his gaze away from Virgil, smiling softly.

“To join the circus. Who needs them?” Virgil laughed.

“Oh yeah? And what would your act be?” The teacher replied, as they headed back down to the kitchen.

Virgil snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’d be the dude with the top hat, duh.”

“The ringmaster?”

“Yeah, that dude.” Virgil replied. “What about you?”

“I’d be fantastic at trapeze.”

“Logan, sweetie, you have as much balance as a headless walrus.” Patton cut in and Roman choked on his orange juice, restraining a laugh. “Breakfast is served.

They ended up at the creek that afternoon, the water was as blue as the sky. Clouds passing over head.

Patton was the first to jump in, the water came up to his chest, Logan slid in next, dropping into the water and surfacing. They both looked strange without their glasses.

Patton squinted as he tried to see even slightly clearer, Logan didn’t have as strong of a prescription, but he looked more tired.

Roman was third, pulling his shirt over his head, and dropping in the same way Logan had, before swimming out farther, to shake off the cold.

“You comin’ Virge?” He called over.

But Virgil sat frozen, sitting on the bank with his legs crossed, t-shirt firmly over his back. He breathed for a moment, trying to shake off his fear.

Finally, he dropped into the water, not wanting to feel like the odd one out, besides, he couldn’t let his boyfriend be stranded with his parents, that would be a death sentence. So, even if reluctantly, he made his way toward the three of them.

The foster home sent all the children swimming on Thursdays, he supposed the home had some sort of deal with the leisure centre. So, he knew how to, he was actually quite good, but he’d never let himself admit it.

“How you doing kiddo?” Patton asked, treading the water. Logan had decided he was going to participate as minimally as possible, floating on his back with his hands clasped over his torso. Virgil presumed it was to cover the scars, self-inflicted or not, he made it clear he wasn’t proud of them.

“It’s nicer than I thought.” He looked around for roman, confused, unable to find him in the water.

But before panic could set in his chest, the prince jumped out of the water in front of him with a yell, a jump-scare. Virgil stumbled back, startled, falling into the water. He managed t push himself up, coughing due to the unexpected water now trapped in his nose and throat.

“Man down!” Roman shouted, lifting Virgil and throwing the emo over his shoulder as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Despite Virgil’s height, Roman was stronger, and the emo was underweight as it is.

But he definitely would have seen Virgil’s scars, it was a window of permanent pink etched into his back, definitely would have been hard to miss.

The emo had now stopped choking, instead beating against Roman. “You- stupid- idiot- I’m taller than you- we’re gonna die! Put- me- down!” He was laughing nonetheless, and Roman laid him on the bank, if slightly clumsily.

Virgil was about to push himself up, but he was pushed back down as Roman kissed him.

Stifling a laugh, he kissed him back, not even caring about his body on show now. Roman had seen his biggest flaw.

But he didn’t even care.

Virgil felt annoyed with himself for thinking that he would.

“Roman? Please stop making out with my son.” Logan spoke, from behind. He didn’t look mad, he was smirking. His glasses back on now.

“It’s the kiss of life sir!”

“He’s awake, and your tongue was in his mouth, get off.” Roman rolled his eyes, smiling, pushing himself up onto the bank beside the taller boy.

“You okay Virgil?” Patton asked, as he made his way over.

“Yeah I’m fine.” He said. “Wait.” The three others looked at him, in a mixture of expectance and concern.

He grinned, pushing Roman back into the water. “ _Now_ I'm fine. Payback bitch!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whole lotta angst my dudes. 
> 
> trigger warnings  
> panic attacks  
> mentions of self harm  
> abuse scars
> 
> sorry if im less active, homework and inktober may take up most of my time. catch me on my insta if you want confirmation that I'm still alive.

The day after they arrived home, Patton figured it might be the time to talk about what Logan had told him. “Kiddo? C’mere a sec!” Patton called up the stairs at Virgil.

Logan was out with Joan, there was a teacher training thing happening at the school. They did it every year to make sure that the teachers worked well together. Logan didn’t like them, he claimed that the teachers hated him because he was one of the youngest (aside from Joan). But Joan always dragged him along, so they weren’t by themself.

The teenager came bouncing down the stairs, Carbon at his heels, curious as to where he was going. Patton smiled at him.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking at him. His eye contact was improving, at least with his family and Roman. He was the same height as Patton now, still remarkably thin, but it wasn’t so concerning anymore.

“Logan told me about your scars.” Patton replied bluntly, and Virgil nodded, he’d expected it to happen eventually, it wasn’t like he could hide it forever. “I’m too blind to have seen ‘em when we were out at the creek.” He laughed, pushing up his glasses. 

“Yeah, lovely permanent pink stripes on my back. I'm like a zebra, cool huh?” He rolled his eyes, smiling, yet somehow looking sad.

Patton sighed, laughing a little. “I’m sure Logan told you about his? Most of them were him. But there were the ones that weren’t.” He looked bitter at the thought. “I just wanted to remind you that nothing like _that_ will ever happen with us. Not Logan, not me, Joan, Talyn or anybody.” He shuffled on his feet slightly. “How… Uh, how bad is it?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, knowing what Patton wanted, everybody did once they knew the scars were there. So, he dropped his hoodie to the floor, spinning round, pulling his shirt up over his back. He shivered, though the house was warm.  

Still they were there, just as pink, raised and grotesque as they always there. Just as ugly as he knew they were.

Carbon jumped up at his legs, whining.

He could hear Patton’s breath hitch. He cringed.

But it wasn’t like he could refuse. This was his dad, he deserved to know.

“I’m so sorry, son. I’m so fucking sorry.” Patton spoke, his voice was quiet. “Those bastards.”

Virgil tensed up, Patton didn’t swear. Ever.

The last time he’d ever done anything of the sort, was the fight with Logan, over half a year ago. He’d called him a dick.

But Virgil had never heard him properly curse.

He dropped his t-shirt down over his back again, turning round to face Patton. The older man had a hand over his mouth, and his eyes were glossed over behind his glasses. “Why’re you sorry? You didn’t do it. There was nothin’ you could have done to stop it.” He tilted his head to the side.

Patton huffed out a soft breath, taking his glasses off, fiddling nervously. “I’m sorry you had to go through this. I’m sorry that you’re ashamed of them. I’m sorry because you’re my son and I love you, and that I _couldn’t_ be there for you, that I wasn’t there sooner.” Patton replied, rubbing his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing softly. “I know, _irrational_. But it hurts to know that you went through that. Did you go to the police about it?”

“Joan asked me about it, I think they want to go after them.” Virgil replied, picking his hoodie up off the ground, laughing as Carbon licked his face when he bent down. “I don’t know if I count as enough evidence to convict them. I dunno how all the court shit works.” He added, rubbing the back of his neck.

His voice broke as he spoke further. Now he’d made him upset. “Virgil, you’d be more than enough, if we could get any of your foster siblings to help we could definitely put them away. They could still be hurting people… Kids, like you…”

“My siblings didn’t like me. I never knew why, but I doubt they’d want to help.” Virgil replied, laughing angrily, shrugging on his hoodie, the warmth grounding him again.

Patton bit his lip. “How are you okay?”

It wasn’t _are_ you okay? It was _how_ are you okay?

He didn’t understand.

“What?”

“How are you standing here? With me- I- How _can_ you be here?” Patton sighed, running a hand through his hair, struggling to articulate how he felt. “If I was you. If I was in your position. I-I-… I wouldn’t be able to do what you’re doing.”

Virgil knew what he was trying to say now. Implying he was strong.

Despite the implication. Virgil knew he was only strong, he knew that he only resisted the weakness in his legs, he knew he was only looking Patton in the eyes right now, because that’s what the older man needed him to do.

He needed Virgil to be brave.

So, Virgil was.

And once that need was gone, he’d be on his bedroom floor shaking, listening to his Walkman until the pounding in his chest slowed down.

“You look at everybody else, who couldn’t deal with Logan. And they look back at you like you’re a phenomenon. It’s because you were meant to do it, you had the patience to do it, and nobody else did.” Virgil replied, Patton looked touched. His eyes were still glossed over, but Virgil had more to say. He hated how once he began to talk he couldn’t stop, even if he thought he should. “Half the blows I took weren’t even meant for me. They were for Sammy, or Lola, or Katie, or Johnny. I took it because I didn’t want anybody else to get hurt, because they didn’t deserve to get hurt, because they needed me. I’m not here for myself. I’m here for you. Because you need me.”

“Virgil-“

“I’m fine. I really am. It just fluctuates, and I haven’t worked out how to stop it. Whether it’s counselling or medication, or just something _I’m_ doing wrong. But that adrenaline, the thing that makes me jump in front of that bottle, so it doesn’t hit Katie over the head, the thing that makes me shove away a douche, so he can’t break my boyfriend’s hand, the thing that’s keeping me _standing_ right now. It-“ He faltered, feeling dizzy.

“Kiddo-“

He knew Patton was trying to speak but he knew if he stopped now he’d be gone, he’d collapse, all he could do was push through.

“It’s selective.” He could feel the tears rising in his throat. “And I don- I don’t know how to- to c-control it.” He breathed out. His heart beat slowed, and his legs went from beneath him.

Patton caught him as he fell forward, stumbling into him. He gripped Virgil’s hoodie, holding him as the younger boy sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Kiddo. I’m sorry.” Patton whispered into his hair, tears falling down his cheeks as he held his son, a broken son. “I wish I could just undo it all, to seal the cracks and put you back together like a fucking jigsaw puzzle but it so much _more_ than that.”

“That’s the thing about jigsaws.” Virgil spoke softly. “It takes the right mind to put it together again.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Roman placed his hands over his face. He was laying in bed, the blinds drawn, the lights off, some eighties pop playing from his laptop.

He didn’t feel sad, he didn’t feel angry.

He was just numb. Unsure of what was going on, not caring either.

Virgil was coming to meet him sometime soon. They were gonna go out to town, just to hang out. A simple date.

Exams were coming up, and Virgil had made the point that he doesn’t get any studying done with him around.

So, the only time they had gotten to see each other, was in their shared classes and at Lunch.

He was worried he was appearing desperate, that Virgil was simply tolerating him.

He hummed softly to the melody, his voice filling the room. He just needed something more than the lone melody that melted into silence after enough repetition. “Just get up Roman, get up and do the thing. It’s not that hard.” He whispered to nobody other than himself.

Sighing loudly, Roman pushed himself off his bed, changing his clothes to something he thought Virgil liked.

It wasn’t too hard to tell that the emo liked his jackets on him. As much as he liked to steal them from him.

His red bomber jacket was hung proudly in Virgil’s closet. It made him smile when Virgil wore it, it was slightly bigger on him, he looked cute. Though to be fair, he had one of Virgil’s t-shirts, a Def Leppard graphic tee. Nothing special, but he loved it.

So reluctantly he pulled it over his head, he didn’t feel like doing anything at all, sort of wishing he could just go back to sleep. Escape reality for a week.

The knock on the door brought him to reality, and he paused the music before running down the stairs to open it.

Virgil smiled, sticking his tongue out at Roman. “You ready to go, loser?” He asked. Roman gave him a once over, he looked nice. A baggy purple and black striped sweater covered his hands, and ripped black jeans exposed slits of his almost worryingly pale skin.

“Yeah, just a sec.” Roman smiled back at him, rolling his eyes. He ran into the living room, to notify his grandparents.

Virgil took his hand after he shut the door. He gave Roman a look that the prince couldn’t quite decipher.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” He spoke, interrupting the silence.

Roman laughed. “What’s your point?”

“Well, you make a cute thief.” Virgil replied, nonchalant, and Roman felt his face heat up.

“You have to stop doing that.” The prince replied, squeezing his hand.

“Doing what?”

“Stealing my thunder, I’m the hopeless romantic, and you’re the recipient who thinks I’m charming.”

The emo rolled his eyes, pulling roman to his side by holding him around the hip. “New plan, you’re just _hopeless_ , and I’m your boyfriend. Sound fair?”

“I hate you.”

Virgil laughed. “No, you don’t.”

“Damn, you got me there.” Roman replied, raising his hands, one of which was holding Virgil’s, the latter scowled at him and he smirked, dropping their hands back down.

Then Virgil froze, his hand clenched around Roman’s as he stared forward, unmoving.

“Virgil, babe, look at me, what’s-“ When he saw what Virgil was looking at he froze too. “Wrong.”

Nathair, Nathair Lappin. Rounded glasses perched atop his nose, and a shit eating smirk on his face as he approached the two boys.

Then Virgil moved, dropping Roman’s hand, and walking toward the other with as much confidence as he didn’t have. Glancing behind him to make sure Roman was still there, he’d be the shield.

“What do you want, asshole?” Virgil asked, folding his arms. “You here to break more of my limbs?” He asked, pushing Roman back as he tried to stand between them.

“Oh no, let him in.” Nathair replied, his English accent almost infuriatingly proper.

“What do you want from us?” Roman growled.

“Whoah, easy there. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’d just like a chat.” He said, pointing at Virgil. “With him.” He glanced at Roman. “ _Alone._ ”

“What kind of idiot to you take me for.” Roman spat, scowling at the English boy.

“Excuse us a second.” Virgil spoke, looking at Roman.

Nathair folded his arms, smirking. “Oh, do take your time.”

The emo grabbed roman by the arm, puling him away from Nathair. “Look he just wants to talk, I think I should let him.”

The prince placed his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, trying to ground him in reality. That bastard had broken his arm, who knew what more he could do. “Are you insane?”

“Always have been.” Roman rolled his eyes. “Look, babe, I know you don’t like him, but what if it’s important?”

Roman’s expression softened at the word babe, and Virgil knew he had him. “What could he have to say that would matter to you?” The prince asked, trying to find some way to convince the taller boy that he was right.

The emo sighed, faltering, he bit his lip deciding to tell the truth. “That day, I fell down the stairs, I can’t remember it. Maybe he’ll tell me.” Roman didn’t look convinced. “Look, just sit over there, if I glance back at you, something is wrong, and you can come to help. Please, Ro’” The taller boy pleaded, looking down at his boyfriend to gauge his reaction.

Roman sighed, looking back at him, before pushing himself up to kiss Virgil. “Look, just be careful.” He walked away from him, as the emo turned back to Nathair.

“Look I don’t have much time. What the hell do you want?” Virgil asked. “You’ve hurt me, you’ve hurt him, and now you’ve got me going- I won’t have much patience.”

Nathair laughed, sticking his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Now, Virgil, that’s no way to talk to your brother.”

“What the _hell_ are you talking about? You aren’t my brother, you _can’t_ be, I never had one.” Virgil spat,

“The black-water-wizard did. A brother that he loved hitting with a stick. A brother that he defended from the monsters that dwelled downstairs. A brother that he _forgot_ about.” Nathair spoke, his eyes narrowing as Virgil’s widened.

His head hurt like crazy but fuzzy images of his childhood filled his head. He could remember.

That was his name, that was his… His character, nobody knew about it, _he_ forgot about it.

“Nate?” He breathed, taking the grin of triumph on Nathair’s face as confirmation. “Why are you here? How are you here, why have you done this?”

“Like you said, you don’t have much time. Meet me at the park, midnight, I’ll be on the swings. I don’t care how you do it, just be there.” He smiled softly. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“Oh, I don’t.”

“Thought as much.”

Virgil turned on his heel, feeling his chest deflate and the world start to spin, walking steadily toward Roman, who caught him as he stumbled forward. “Fuck the date- fuck it- We can.” He heaved, placing his hands on his knees as he bent forward. “We- We’ll just get t-take-out.”

He managed to upright himself on unsteady legs, taking Roman’s hand, and walking back the way they came.

He needed to sit down, he needed his dog and his boyfriend, he needed his music. He just needed peace.

Caught off guard Roman stumbled to catch up. “What did he say to you?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m fine.” Virgil replied, shoving his other hand into his pocket, clenching it into a fist, that hand that was clutching Roman’s was trembling no matter how much he willed it not to.

“You nearly keeled over a second ago, what did he say?” Roman’s tone was serious. He meant business.

Virgil sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. He was fourteen. His life was supposed to be fun and filled with immature mistakes. Not panic attacks and inconveniencing his boyfriend every time his past caught up to him. “Roman, there are some things I know you’re hiding from me. I'm not Logan, do I don’t know _what_ they are. So, there are gonna be some things I have to keep from you. At least for a little while.”

Roman sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He had no right to be mad, this wasn’t Virgil’s fault. He’d rather keep what was wrong with him away from Virgil, even if it meant not finding out. “Let’s just forget it. I was thinking Chinese?”

“Sounds good.”  Virgil replied. “Hey.” He spoke softly, turning to face Roman.

Roman looked at him tiredly, he looked betrayed.

Gently, Virgil placed a hand on his face. Roman flinched, his hands were always cold. Giving in he leant into the taller boy’s touch.

Virgil tilted his head up, kissing him softly, nothing extravagant, it didn’t call for it.

“Forgiven?” He asked when pulling away.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Always, idiot.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT GOES DOWN  
> PREPARE YOURSELVES  
> I AIN'T EVEN SORRY 
> 
> Trigger warnings  
> abuse scars
> 
>  
> 
> also, I drew the bois (ro and virge), most recent on my tumblr ( https://shiverfawkes.tumblr.com/ )

Virgil slipped down the stairs as quietly as possible, he’d had a ton of practice at being silent.

But he was met with an obstacle.

Logan was sitting at the kitchen table, pen in hand and his face in the other, he looked tired, his eyes barely staying open.

“Papa?” Virgil asked, and Logan flinched, glancing up at the younger boy.

“Virgil, what can I do for you?” He smiled, tiredly, turning back to what he was working on.

So, this was the cause of the late nights? He’d been tired as of late. And though he was always reprimanding Patton and Virgil about the importance of a good sleep pattern, he hadn’t been listening to his own advice.

“What are you doing up?” Virgil asked, walking over to the table to look. But Logan flipped the notepad over, so the younger boy couldn’t see.

He sighed out, his posture deflating as he rubbed his eyes under his glasses. It was a habit he and Patton shared, the refusal to remove their glasses. “None of your business. Work it out.” He replied, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy.

“Nah, too much effort.” Virgil replied, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Logan smiled, shaking his head, before pointing an accusing finger at the teenager. “What are _you_ doing up?”

“Sneaking out.” Virgil replied nonchalantly.

“Nope.”

Virgil sighed heavily and fake, clicking his tongue, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I suppose Dad will be notified about your late nights as of recent, what a shame.” He spoke in a sing-song voice.

Logan groaned. “Where are you going?” He knew he shouldn’t let him, but as a teenager he sneaked out all the time, usually to see Patton. Who was he to deny Virgil the same experience?

“Roman’s.” Virgil answered quickly, too quickly and Logan rolled his eyes.

“Liar.”

The teenager sighed, pulling his hood up. “The park.”

“Call me at half twelve. If you don’t I will assume you’re being stabbed, and I’ll call the police. So, don’t forget.” Logan ordered, if he was permitting Virgil to go out, he at least needed him to be safe.

“Thanks Papa.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

The teenager went toward the door.

“Hey!” Logan called, and Virgil jumped, spinning round. Logan was laughing. “Where the hell’s my hug?”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil threw his arms around the taller man quickly, Logan patted his back softly, careful about his scars. “Just be safe, Rabbit.”

Virgil huffed out a breath of air, the nights were slowly getting warmer, which he was grateful for. He had his hoodie on and an umbrella in his hand just in case.

The park was strange at night. Virgil had been here more times than he could count, when walking Carbon or out with Roman, but at night? It was a different story. He had a vague remembrance of walking through here when he was homeless, but that was nearly a year ago at this point.

The amber streetlights cascaded orange down on the sidewalk, casting long, warped shadows that moved quickly and disappeared at a moment’s notice.

Silhouettes casted down from the trees, blobs of dark that figures disappeared into and emerged from.

True to his word Nathair was on the swings, using his legs to sway back and forth.

Virgil sat beside him, on the other swing.

“I didn’t think you’d do it.” Nathair laughed, breathily, he didn’t look up.

Virgil shrugged, pushing himself back on his feet. “Curiosity killed the cat.” He wasn’t interested in being friends, but Nathair seemed legitimately urgent earlier in the day.

“I’ll spare your life for now.”

“Alright, spill, _brother dearest._ ” Virgil spoke, his words laced with poison as he spoke them.

“I don’t know all the details so bear with me.” Nathair replied, he was playing with his hands, a habit he shared with the taller boy beside him. “I know that you’re my brother. Not by blood though.”

“So, you’re adopted?”

Nathair laughed softly. “Nah, you are.”

Virgil stared at him. “W-What? But mom- she- that’s my biological mom! Right?..” He asked, placing his face in his hands for a moment, unsure of himself anymore.

“Your mom died in childbirth. Your dad, I’m assuming passed his anxiety to you, he killed himself before you were born. Mum wouldn’t give me all the details. Somehow she managed to adopt you, I guess she overheard the doctors or something.” Nathair replied, chuckling. “However she did it, it probably wasn’t legal.”

Virgil smiled sadly. “Yeah, that’s mom.”

“For definite.”

“I should’ve known I guess. We don’t really look anything alike huh?” Virgil glanced over at him, Nathair had blonde hair, green eyes, his nose was thin, his face was thinner.

He pointed to his hair, rolling his eyes. “I’m practically your opposite you twat.” The shorter boy replied, elbowing him.

“ _Please_ , that’s dyed.”  Virgil laughed, swatting the other boys arm away from him.

Nathair shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

“So, my life is a lie? I spent the last ten years thinking I had an alcoholic mom who loved to yell at me.” The taller boy replied, trying to keep the conversation on track. He had so many questions and not a lot of time to answer them.

“You had an alcoholic mom that loved to yell at me. You always stood in front of me. As if standing there meant I couldn’t hear it.”

Virgil bit his lip, so many memories lost to his own stupid brain. He sometimes wished he had an eidetic memory. Sometimes forgetting was better for him, he just had to remember that. “I forgot.”

“I know.” He laughed softly. “Hey, look on the bright side, your life would make a good soap opera.”

“Well explain the bullying asshole.” Virgil shuddered, the cold whipping round the two of them, rattling the chains of the kids swings.

“The shit they tell you about bullies is true, well, mostly. I hated Roman because I was jealous. He was everything I wasn’t. Confident, popular, talented. So, I ruined it. Dick move, I am aware.” He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I kinda laid off him until you came.”

“Yeah, many things are my fault.” The taller boy sighed, somehow wishing he could pull his knees to his chest. That always seemed to comfort him.

“It was to see if it was you. Virgil is a unique name, mum liked unique, if you couldn’t tell. I knew if I came at you, you wouldn’t retaliate. Nothing personal but you’d be beat to the ground, my team don’t lay off. But I knew if it _was_ you, you’d help Roman.”

Virgil laughed bitterly. “That’s no excuse, you almost _broke_ his hand.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Nathair sighed, pushing up his glasses as he stared at the woodchip covered ground. “I’m not looking your forgiveness you fucking plonker. I'm explaining it to you. The least you could do is lay off the judgement.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, he knew he was grateful, but he didn’t think he could ever forgive him. Sighing he knew he needed to change the subject. “How’s mom?” He was almost sure he knew the answer, he just needed it confirmed

Nathair coughed. “Six feet under man. Liver damage and heart attack. Nearly five years ago at this point. I had to move back to this shithole country.”

“You were born here idiot.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“What was it like in England?”

“Like home. We moved after you were taken away. It was my country for five years. I had friends, we had ‘family’, it was nice.” The shorter boy shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Virgil.

The taller boy turned away his gaze, instead choosing to focus in front of him. “Yeah, we haven’t had _nice_ for a while huh?”

“Say it louder for the shitlords in the back.”

The next though pushed its way into Virgil’s mind and his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. “You called my parents faggots _and_ pushed me down the stairs.”

“I had the asshole friends, forgive my vernacular. I’m happy for you, all that shit about them not loving you was total crap.” Virgil gestured for him to move on to the next point. “I didn’t push you down the stairs. One of my mates saw you swearing at me, so he shoved you. I took the blame.”

He wasn’t lying, his tone was sincere. His facial expression didn’t show any sign of dishonesty.

“So where are you now?”

“Older lady, she couldn’t have her own kids. She’s alright, I look after the little ones and she gives me twenty bucks a week.”

“Cool.” Virgil smiled softly. He checked his phone, seeing that he had five minutes left before he had to call Logan. “I gotta go. Uh, thanks?” He offered his hand to Nathair, who used it to pull himself up off the swing.

“No problem.” He shook Virgil’s hand.

“I still don’t forgive you.”  Virgil called as he walked away.

“The black-water-wizard never was merciful!” Nathair shouted.

Virgil spun around, walking backwards, a grin on his face as more memories slotted into place. “The forest-knight was always courteous!” He shouted back at him.

Despite the smile on his face, all he wanted to do was lay on his floor and think for an hour. He had a lot to mull over, a lot to try and remember, a lot he wanted to forget.

He reached for his phone as he walked along, knowing he needed to call Logan. The teacher was not joking when he said he would call the police.

But he was stopped, before he could click Logan's contact, his phone was pulled from his hand.

“Hey runt, long time no see. How’s being out of town going for ya?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, why now? Why here? He sighed, looking up to be met with a group, they were huddled in their group, with their leader at the front.

Virgil could laugh, knowing for a fact this could be a scene in a movie and nobody would know the difference.

“It was going good, until I was met with you.” There was some noticeable movement from the middle of the group. “What do you want?”

“A thousand dollars.”

“In your dreams.”

He laughed. “We thought as much, so we brought a little incentive for you.” There was movement from the middle of the group.

Suddenly Roman was forced out of the small huddle, his hands were tied behind his back with what looked like a scarf, he wasn’t gagged but there was a bright red hand mark on his cheek.

“Roman.” He breathed out, but they didn’t hear it. “Look,” Virgil turned to the leader. “I barely know him, he’s just some guy who goes to my school, he means _nothing_ to me. You got the wrong guy, kill him for all I care.” Virgil spat, knowing for a fact he was making a mistake but if they let Roman go, it would be worth it. The more brutal he made it, the more believable it was.

The prince looked hurt but stuck his chin up and tried to keep his expression vague. Virgil knew he’d fucked up.

But Roman hating him was better than them hurting Roman.

The was tense silence, before Virgil’s phone began to ring. The leader looked at the contact and scoffed. “Papa? Really? What are you? Five?”

“You’re gonna want to let me take that.” Virgil replied, holding his hand out for his phone. It was worth a shot at least.

“Yeah right.” He responded, holding the phone above his head, as if it would be out of Virgil’s reach. The teenager could have easily stretched to grab it, but he wasn’t about to leave his torso exposed. The leader smirked, declining the call. “You owe us, runt.”

“For what?” Just stall for time. Logan will call the police, and everything would be okay. He just needed time.

Keep the focus off Roman, keep the anger on Virgil.

The rest of the group was silent, Virgil hated that they never said anything. They were afraid of him too. Knowing that if they got on his bad side, they’d end up like the teenager before them. “We gave you everything you needed, you ungrateful bitch!” He saw Roman squeeze his eyes shut at the insult.

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, because I _needed_ an empty backpack and more anxiety than I already had.” Virgil spat back, his stomach turning as he went against his every instinct.

Just bide for time. Just bide for time. That’s all you have to do.

“You were fucked in the head when we got you, be grateful we even took you in. And since when do you have parents?”

“Since I got adopted, it isn’t rocket science.” Virgil fired back. “You really should have let me take that call.”

“What pathetic beggars would want a kid like you? Oh, is your precious little Papa going to be worried?” He laughed in the teenager’s face. But Virgil wasn’t looking at him. He noticed the flashing of blue and red, he heard the faint siren drawing closer, and closer.

Roman looked at him, noticing it too. The rest of the group seemed to squirm but the leader, he was so focused on Virgil that he didn’t seem to care.

“Nah, but you should be.”

“Why? I ain’t got nothing to be afraid of. You’re a stupid runt, what can you do?” The leader pushed himself into Virgil’s space, his face inches from the teenagers.

The sirens were louder now, the lights flashing brighter and Virgil knew this was his only chance. Without a second thought, Virgil slammed his head forward, smashing into the older man’s.

Ignoring the black spots in his vision, and the pounding in his chest, and the ringing in his ears, Virgil sprinted toward the sirens, following the beams of amber along the path, knowing what entrance they’d go to.

“VIRGIL!” Roman screamed from behind him.

Virgil glanced back to see the group of at least ten people chasing him, and he pushed farther, seeing the police men running forward, knowing that in their blind anger, the others wouldn’t.

His head hurt, and his lungs were burning as he panted, pushing himself forward. He couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop.

“I told you, you should’ve let me answer!” Virgil called, as most of the group were tackled to the ground.

Virgil could swear that every officer Lewisburg had was on the case.

Christ, he loved Logan.

Before he could run to get Roman, an officer grabbed him by the hood, and dragged him over to one of the cars, he leaned against it.  

He was handed an odd orange blanket, well, less handed, more like somebody set it over his shoulders, and he flinched, pulling it off immediately.

His legs hand given iust yet, his heart was still racing, as he watched the group, his old acquaintances, pushed into the fleet of cop cars.

His head was splitting open. The lights were causing him nausea. And Roman was nowhere in sight, probably still in the park somewhere, on his own.

Oh fuck, Virgil needed to get to him before things got any worse.

“Look-“ Virgil tried to walk forward but the officer placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Kid, you have to stay here for questioning.” She replied, and he rolled his eyes, he knew all the questions, he knew all the answers.

But Roman was still in that park, with his hands tied behind his back and that hand-print still on his face. He was alone, in the dark. “I’ll answer your questions later- My boyfriend- I have to see him- Please!” Virgil’s voice strained, as he ripped the officer’s arms away from him.

He ran back the way he came, ignoring the cries of the officers and his parents.

Roman was walking away, his house was on the other side of the park.

“ROMAN!” Virgil yelled as he ran, his throat burned, his legs ached. “Wait up! Please!” He cried out, and the prince froze, his shoulders dropped, and he turned round, a tired look on his face, his hands were still tied behind his back.

“What do you want? To make an even bigger joke out of me?” He asked, his tone bitter, he pulled against the restraints to make a point.

“I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it I swear.” Virgil looked at him with pleading eyes, but the prince just turned and made for him to untie the scarf.

“Sure.” He scoffed, rubbing his wrists once his hands were free.

Virgil stared at him, and he stared right back.

His worry, strain and fear in contrast with Roman’s anger, hurt and confusion.

The taller boy wanted to cry.

Once things started to be good, they all came crashing down again. Like a ton of bricks dropping down on his chest he felt his lungs deflate, his hands beginning to tremble. He clenched his jaw, and tightened his hands to fists, shoving them in his hoodie pockets.

This was it.

Roman was gone. Roman was going to leave him.

“Look, I-…”He sighed, struggling to grab the words he wanted to say. “I know that we- I know that I- I know you want to break up with me!” Virgil blurted it out, trying to stop the tears from falling down his face. “I just didn’t want them to hurt you. If I kept the anger on me, if I pretended you didn’t matter, they would leave you alone. So, go ahead and break up with me, I-I was just trying to protect you.”

Roman rolled his eyes, gripping Virgil’s t-shirt and pressing their lips together.

“You’re an idiot. I’m not gonna dump you, not now, probably not ever.” Virgil let out a breath of relief and Roman glared at him. “That doesn’t mean I'm not fucking furious at you.” He didn’t sound genuinely angry, more tired than anything.

Virgil didn’t blame him. Getting kidnapped and restrained by the homeless was an exhausting activity.

“That’s fair.”

“And for the record, I love you, you better not forget that.” The prince replied, taking Virgil’s hand as they walked back to the police cars.

Virgil squeezed his hand back, too overwhelmed to speak, but he hoped that it would get the message across.

_I love you too._

 

 

* * *

“Oh god, oh thank god, oh my god.” Patton spoke, once they got back to the house, pulling Virgil into him. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” He ordered, Virgil knew he was scared more than anything. Truthfully he was scared as well.

Logan hadn’t said a word. He looked upset or worried, or- Virgil couldn’t quite place it. God he wished he was better at reading people. Maybe he needed to reread that book again.

Patton sighed, running his hands over his face. “Roman sweetheart you can stay over at ours. Just sleep in Virgil’s room. I know we’re all tired. How about we regroup in the morning and talk about this.”

Virgil nodded, feeling some weight leave his shoulders and Roman slipped his warm hand into Virgil’s cold one, their fingers interlocking.

The door of Virgil's bedroom shut.

“Okay, I want an explanation.” Roman asked. “The least you can give me after that shit, is a reason.” He laughed angrily, sitting on Virgil’s bed. The taller oy stared at Roman’s face, the hand-print hadn’t faded much yet.

The hand-print may as well have been Virgil's.

“Ask and I’ll tell.” Virgil replied, sitting on the other end of the bed, legs crossed, staring into his lap.

“Who were those guys? Why did they take me? Why were they angry at you?” He asked, his voice softened, realising that Virgil was just as scared as he was.

Virgil sighed. “I was homeless for maybe five months. When I was first put out on the streets, those guys brought me into their group, the ‘homeless network’” Virgil made quotations with his fingers. “Their leader, Jesse, he’s a piece of work.” He laughed, not happily.

“He treated me like his dog, I did his bidding because I was so… So scared. I stole, I lied, I gave most of what I had. They used me _however_ they wanted. But they always made it seem like a favour.”

“They took you because… I guess they figured they could use you as bait.”

“Why were you even out there in the first place?”

“I was meeting Nathair.” Roman scowled at him. “He’s my brother.”

His expression softened into confusion and he looked at Virgil for an answer. “What?”

“It’s a long story.”

Roman rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. “I have time.”

“My biological parents died before I was born. My dad killed himself and my mom died in childbirth. Nathair’s mom adopted me. I got pulled from that family at five, fostered at seven, beat to shit and kicked out before my fourteenth birthday, nearly a year ago.” Virgil shrugged. “I guess I have a flair for the dramatic.”

“No kidding.” Roman breathed out, he was staring at Virgil in awe. He didn’t know any of it, he was so clueless, Virgil was one hell of an actor.

“I forgot about him. He remembered me. I know he isn’t lying Roman. I’m so close to figuring out who the fuck I am. I couldn’t let an opportunity like that go.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“I know storm-cloud, I know.”

“And I get it, if you don’t want me anymore.” Virgil bit his lip, clenching his hands together. “I’m a mess, I get you in trouble, I get you hurt, my life may as well be a fucking soap opera. Somebody’ll probably die soon if I know my TV right.” He laughed softly, angrily, bitter.

Roman had never seen him this vulnerable. He’d had the panic phone calls every now and then.

This was a whole different ball game.

Virgil was always strong, he was always the one protecting Roman.

But the tables had turned.

Roman moved closer to him, putting an arm around him. “You’re such an idiot, do you not listen to the things I say? I love you Virgil. That’s not a statement I make lightly.” He replied, trying to comfort the taller boy.

Virgil smiled, leaning into Roman.

“I mean, I guess I don’t know what the fuck love is. But I like to think this is what it feels like.” Roman added. “I-…” He sighed, trailing off, unsure of what to say. Maybe now was the time to tell him, Virgil had explained his whole life, he’d given a reason for everything, told him some of his most valuable secrets.

Who was he to hide who he was?

“I'm not happy Virgil. There’s no reason why, I’m just not. Its not sorrow or anger, it’s just numb. When I'm with you, I feel better, I feel like- like it’s worth it y’know? It doesn’t magically disappear, but I feel less dead.” Virgil pressed a kiss to his neck as he leant into him.

“Hey, Dad isn’t making you sleep on the couch.” Virgil mumbled, changing the subject, and Roman squirmed as his voice vibrated into his neck. “You can sleep here if you want.”

Roman laughed. “I sleep with my shirt off.” He said, in an attempt to fluster the taller boy.

“Bold of you to assume I’d have an issue with that.” Virgil grinned, pulling away. “You can borrow another shirt in the morning. Dad’ll wash that one for you.”

“Its yours anyway.”

“Keep it, you look hot in it anyway.” Virgil poked his tongue out, standing up, as Roman turned red. He went to take his shirt off, but he paused, glancing back at his boyfriend. “Uh, you don’t have an issue with my scars right?”

“I saw ‘em at the creek. Second foster family?” Roman replied, standing up to get changed himself.

“Yeah.” Virgil tossed a pair of pyjama bottoms to the prince. “It’s just, y’know, Talyn can’t look at ‘em, and they’re all into gore.” He replied, taking his shirt off, his back facing the shorter boy.

Roman sighed softly, turning his back to get changed.

He wasn’t the most body confident, but he knew for a fact Virgil wouldn’t care.

“I’m kinda glad you showed ‘em to me. Because I was convinced for a minute you were perfect, I felt intimidated.” Roman replied, and Virgil stuck his tongue out.

Virgil set his Walkman on his desk, throwing himself into his bed, turning on his side to face the wall, making room for Roman. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

The prince rolled his eyes, lying beside Virgil, he traced his finger tips over the lines in Virgil’s back, fondly, but slightly concerned. Virgil moved back a little, taking Roman’s arm and moving it over his waist. “You were badass. A modern Vigilante.” He played with Virgil’s hair with his other hand.

“Virgilante.” The taller boy laughed, and Roman smiled softly.

The prince groaned. “Oh god, your dad would be proud.”

“I’m sorry about your face.”

“Eh, nothing can be so perfect forever. You could try and kiss it better.”

Virgil yawned. “I’ll do that in the morning.”

“Worth a shot.” Roman replied, he was still for a moment, before pressing a kiss to the back of Virgil’s neck. As if that would make it better.

“Night, Ro’. And uh, thank you.” He replied softly, fading away to sleep. Roman smiled, pressing his forehead against Virgil’s back.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whole load of fluff
> 
> trigger warning for nightmares??
> 
> I got my binder so I've been in a good mood all day.  
> You're welcome. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Roman woke up to Virgil squirming against him. He was breathing quickly. Roman pulled his arms off the taller boy, pushing himself up.

He placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back. His face was scrunched in anguish, eyebrows furrowed, his fringed pushed up off his forehead, his fists were clenched. “No…” He moaned, his head twisting away from Roman. “Get away!” He cried out.

“Nightmare…” Roman whispered.

He shook the taller boy a little, but he jerked away from the touch. “No…” His voice trailed away softly. “No- Don’t hurt her!” He screamed Bloody-Mary, flailing one of his arms, smacking Roman in the chest, before sitting up like a shot, gasping for breath. He glanced at Roman, now realising he was awake. He pushed himself to the other side of the bed, before he calmed down.

“Virgil, are you okay?” Roman asked, concerned, resisting the urge to move forward, knowing Virgil wouldn’t want to be touched until he calmed down.

“S-Sorry. I just-…” He trailed away. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It- It hasn’t happened in a while, I-I thought I was fine.” He added, pulling his knees to his chest, still left bare.

Roman smiled softly at him. “Its alright Virge.” The taller boy bit his lip, still looking apprehensive. “Hey c’mere.” He replied, holding his hand out, his voice still deep from sleep. “It’s only three in the morning, try and get back to sleep.” He added, squinting at the clock.

“Fine, but- You lay down a sec.” Virgil replied. The prince shrugged, laying back down. He made a noise of acknowledgement when the taller boy laid beside him, this time putting his arms over Roman. “You’re beautiful, Ro.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of the prince’s head. “I love you.” He muttered quietly.

The prince placed his hand over Virgil’s. That was the first time Virgil had said it. It felt nice to hear it.

Roman was shaken awake a while later, and he groaned, pulling the blanket over himself more.

“Oh, come _on._ ” Virgil pulled the blanket off him. “Don’t be such a baby.” He ruffled Roman’s hair.

“You literally call me baby, maybe it went to my head.” Roman protested, swatting Virgil’s hands away

Virgil sighed. “I call you babe, there’s a difference. In fact, _you’re_ the one that calls _me_ that.”

“Alright I’m up, I’m up!” The prince groaned pushed himself up. “Doesn’t your dad wanna talk to you? Your ass is gonna be grounded.”

“Yep! So, get your shirt on. He’s making pancakes.” Virgil replied to tempt him, he was ashamed to admit that it worked.

Roman rolled his eyes, trying not to look disappointed that Virgil put his t-shirt back on. Pulling his own over his head he followed the taller boy down the stairs.

“Morning one, morning all.” Virgil called, into the kitchen, opening the door to let Carbon back in, she jumped up at him, so he crouched to pet her, feeling bad that he hadn’t let her in to sleep in his room.

“Morning kids!” Patton replied from the kitchen. “Ro, take a seat, I’m making breakfast, you like pancakes right?”

“Who doesn’t?” Roman asked, shooting the older man a smile, rolling his eyes as Virgil kissed his cheek, sitting beside him.

“Exactly.”

“Where’s Papa?” Virgil asked.

“He refused to get up, he’ll be down in a bit.” Patton giggled. “Crofters or Syrup, Roman?”

“I’ll take crofters.” Roman replied, and the older man set two plates in front of the boys.

Logan came down the stairs, he looked awful, his face was pale, his glasses were in his hand, and the bags under his eyes were prominent. Patton noticed this immediately, handing him a glass of water. “Sit at the table Owl, ours is almost ready.”

“How are you two this morning?” He asked weakly, sitting opposite the teenagers.

“I’m good.”

“I’m alright.”

“You’re grounded by the way. One month.” Patton spoke, setting down his and Logan’s plates. “I want your phone, and you’re banned from TV.” Virgil sighed, there it was. He’d been expecting it but the disappointed tone in his voice was enough to make him deflate.

Roman found his hand under the table, locking their fingers, not even looking up. But it helped Virgil focus. “And my Walkman?” He asked, slightly concerned.

He knew he didn’t deserve it. He’d betrayed Patton’s trust.

But he needed it. It was one of the only things that calmed him down, other than Roman and Carbon.

“That’s your one luxury.” Logan replied. “We did discuss it thoroughly, in order for it to be a fair punishment. Don’t look so dejected, nobody is angry at you, you just broke our trust and scared us shitless, that’s all.” Logan joked, and Patton rolled his eyes.

The baker decided to speak before Virgil felt anymore guilt. “I was worried, that’s all.”

“Thanks.” Virgil smiled softly, eating his pancakes.

Patton nodded. “We’ll save the explanations for when Roman goes home, for now, how about we enjoy breakfast?”

“Sure thing.”

“So, Roman, how’s school been?” Logan asked. “Your history grade looks promising.”

“Uh, I’m doing alright, I have a B grade average, Virgil’s giving me a hand in math though. I'm in the group below him.” The prince smiled. Virgil noticed the inconspicuous grin Patton gave to Logan and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s excellent!” The teacher looked proud and Roman gave a bashful smile. “Virgil, to my knowledge you’re doing well?”

“Yeah, I think I have an A grade average, it might drop with my language though… Ro tries to help me with French, but not much studying gets done.” Virgil shrugged, concealing a smile as Roman squeezed his hand.

“Thank you very much for the pancakes, they were amazing.” Roman spoke, directing the conversation back at Patton.

Patton grinned at the compliment. “I’m a baker, honey, it’s my job.”

“Employee of the month.” Logan rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to the baker’s temple as he collected plates, setting them beside the sink.

“Alright, I’ll get the dishes done. You guys get washed and ready. Roman I’ll drop you home later.” Patton spoke, now everybody seemed to be done with their food. “Also, you might wanna get a more discreet way to hold hands.” He winked at the two boys, lifting their plates.

“Take a shower, you smell like ass.” Virgil joked as they walked up the stairs. “There’s towels in the bathroom, I’ll get you clothes.”

Roman nodded with a smile, closing the door to the bathroom.

“Virgil, I’d like to speak to you about something.” Logan’s voice came from behind. Usually that tone meant that he wanted to talk in private, so Virgil gestured to his room.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked, once he shut the door to his bedroom.

“Firstly, I’d like to apologise. You shouldn’t be punished for my irresponsibility-”

Virgil sighed, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Papa, I blackmailed you. It’s not your fault.”

“I wanted to tell you why I was up.” He avoided Virgil’s response, pausing for a moment as Virgil looked at him expectantly. “I was planning my proposal.”

Virgil’s heart raced. “You’re gonna propose to dad?” He asked, rolling his eyes when Logan covered the teenager’s mouth with his hand.

“Quiet, he might hear you!”

“Sorry I just- I’m excited!” Virgil replied, shrugging. “How are you gonna do it?”

“I'm gonna do it at the bakery. It’s an important place for us.” Logan replied, knowing he’d need to explain himself. “Patton wanted to buy the building. He wanted to be a vet his whole life, but he couldn’t stand the sight of blood. So, he figured out that he wanted to bake for a living, it was the only other thing he had a passion for. He worked his ass off at this job he hated, until he had enough saved up. When he went to put in a deposit for the building somebody outbid him. I’d just published my first book, it sold well. So, I put up the rest of the money for him.”

“Whoah.”

“That’s why I lived in such a shitty apartment. My parents convinced me that I’d stolen from them by doing it, so I was trying to make it back to them. It’s probably the only reason he didn’t ditch me after everything I put him through.”

“I can’t believe it took you until I told you to realise you were in love with him.” Virgil replied, sifting through his drawers to find something Roman would wear, figuring he would look cute in a pair of ripped jeans. They would fit him fine, if he cuffed the ends.

“I’m often oblivious to my own emotions. Patton says I bottle them up.” He laughed softly.

“When are you gonna do it?”

“Sometime after your birthday.”

“My birthday?”

“Yes, the day you were born, it’s often a celebration.”

The teenager rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Yeah, I know… I just, I’ve never had a birthday celebrated before. It doesn’t matter, you should just do it, my birthday isn’t important.”

“Talk to Patton about it. We are most definitely doing something for it.” Logan replied, refusing his protests.

“Yeah, okay…” Virgil replied.

The door opened to Roman with a towel around his waist. His hair was pulled back, a few loose strands over his forehead. He had quite a fit build, doing drama and dance routines, definitely benefited him physique wise. “Am I interrupting?”

Virgil flushed red and looked away, embarrassed by his staring. “No, I was just- I’ll go- I'm gonna- I'm gonna go talk to dad.” He glanced at Roman quickly. “There’s clothes for you on my bed.” He spoke, flustered, before leaving the room swiftly, Logan followed suit.

Logan wolf whistled, laughing behind the younger boy, as he made his way to the office.

“Shut up Logo!” Virgil ordered behind him, knowing the other man had picked up on how flustered he was.

Shaking his head as if it would knock the embarrassing thoughts out of it, he skipped down the stairs. “Dad? Papa said something about my birthday, he said I should talk to you.”

“Oh yeah. We usually go out or something when it’s somebody’s birthday. Remember Logan took me out for mine?” Patton replied, handing Virgil a hand towel to dry the dishes he was washing. “What did you have in mind?”

“Are you sure it isn’t a hassle? It’s not that important we don’t have to do anything.”

Patton shrugged, tapping his foot to the music he had on, Queensrÿche if Virgil recalled correctly. “We don’t, but seeing as it’s your first birthday with us, I’d quite like to.”

“Oh uhm. I thought maybe, we could just have people over, get take out.” He suggested, quietly.

“Like Joan and Talyn?”

“Yeah, and uh, maybe, if it’s not too much trouble we could ask Grandma and Grandpa?” He asked.

“I’m sure they’d be delighted to come over. They were quite upset that they couldn’t get you anything for Christmas.” Patton replied, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “God you’re growing up. It feels like yesterday we got that hot chocolate. You were shorter than me then.” He laughed, pushing up his glasses.

Virgil resisted a laugh as the older man got soap bubbles on the lenses and tried to blow them away. “Thanks for that by the way. I love you a lot you know that? I don’t think I say it enough.”

“I know you do. But it’s nice to hear it.” The baker replied, smiling softly. “So how was sharing with Roman? I'm hoping there was no mischief.”

“Ew, Dad, no! I'm fourteen! He’s fifteen!” Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in embarrassment.

“Hey, I had to ask.” Patton shrugged.

Virgil rolled his eyes, he was smiling softly though, shoving the mugs back up into the cupboards. “You really didn’t. But thanks for your concern.”

 

  ****

* * *

 

 

A kiss shook Virgil from his sleep, he managed to open his eyes, squinting at the amber streaks of coming through his window from a streetlight outside.

Roman was looking down at him, a smile on his face. He didn’t know whether to smile or be weirded out. “Hey baby, happy birthday.”

Instead he did neither, Virgil squeezed his eyes shut again, sighing softly. “Roman?” he asked, even though he knew, maybe it was a dream.  

“The one and only. Get dressed we’re going out.” He replied, as Virgil pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“I can’t, I-I’m still grounded, Dad’ll be mad, and I don’t want that to happen.” He pulled his knees to his chest, staring at the boy who had some how come into his house before the sun was up.

Roman rolled his eyes, still smiling. “I know, that’s why I told him what’s happening.”

“Ugh, fine. Get out of here so I can change.” Virgil ordered standing up, he stretched, wincing at the cracking in his back.

“Aw, I don’t get to watch?” Roman replied, and the taller boy folded his arms over his chest, noticing the prince staring at him now.

“You’re gross, get out idiot.” Virgil laughed, pushing Roman out the door.

The prince rolled his eyes, kissing Virgil on the cheek. “You know you love me.”

Now having woken up more Virgil realised this wasn’t a dream. He’d couldn’t imagine what the hell Roman had come up with to do at half five in the morning. Not to say he wasn’t intrigued, but he just wanted to drag the shorter boy back to his bed to cuddle with him until he went back to sleep.

He pulled on some ripped jeans over some leggings Talyn got him a while ago, they were a galaxy print. Followed by a t-shirt and Roman’s letterman jacket. It was warm, and he’d left it in Virgil’s house.

That was the only reason, not the fact that it smelled like the aftershave Roman wore, not at all.

He opened his door and Roman smiled at what he was wearing. “You look gorgeous, c’mon.” He took Virgil’s hand and led him outside.

“Where are we going?” Virgil asked, locking the front door.

“It’s a secret.”

“And _why_ are we going?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed, there wasn’t an occasion he could think of. Did he forget something? Was it an anniversary?

Oh, fuck he hoped not.  

“It’s your birthday dummy.” Roman replied, squeezing his hand.

Virgil raised an eyebrow; did he really forget his own birthday? “It is?”

Roman laughed. “Yes, Patton said your family and I get to come around later. But I wanted my present to be special.” He spoke, as they walked through the gates of the park.

It was still dark out, the navy blue of the sky starting to lighten only slightly.

Virgil panicked. Roman had gotten him something? Oh god, he wasn’t going to be able to repay it, what if he spent a lot on it? “You didn’t have to get me anything, really.”

Roman looked at him. “Hey Virgil?”

“What?”

“Shut your mouth.”

They ended up on a hill in a clearing, Roman had veered off the park path, and dragged him through some trees.

But he dropped his backpack, pulling out an old picnic blanket.

Virgil rolled his eyes, knowing the prince was always a sucker for clichés.

Nonetheless, he sat down beside the shorter boy, humming in amusement as the prince leant against him in a matter of seconds. “Happy birthday.”

“It is, for once.” Virgil replied, smiling softly as he pressed a kiss to the top of Roman’s head. “I don’t think it was ever celebrated.”

“I think Patton’s determined to make this one good.” Roman murmured against his shoulder.

“That sounds like Dad alright. But I'm already enjoying myself thanks to some dork who woke me up too early to watch the sunrise.”

The prince giggled. “You got me all figured out.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Well I bet you’d never guess that I got you something.”

Virgil frowned. “This isn’t it?” This would have been enough, more than enough. He wasn’t expecting anything at all.

“Nope.” Roman popped the p.

Virgil looked at him, placing a hand on his arm. “You really didn’t have to, I’m not that important, honestly.”

Roman looked offended and upset. “First off, I wanted to. Secondly, you’re probably the most important thing in my life. Don’t let yourself forget that storm-cloud.” He placed a smile back on his face, before handing Virgil a parcel.

It was messily wrapped but wrapped nonetheless. Roman shrugged sheepishly. “I uh, I couldn’t quite work out how to do it.”

Virgil shook his head smiling, the effort of it all made him grin like an idiot.

With delicate fingers he peeled off the wrapping. It was a book, not a book to read, but rather, a notebook.

It had a leather-bound cover, with a bronze clasp to keep it shut in the shape of a bird. He opened it to flick through the pages, a warm off-white colour, the pages were thick enough to draw or write, whatever he wanted. “It’s beautiful Roman, I love it, thank you.” He spoke, still in shock, Roman was watching him contently.

“Yeah, well a beautiful thing deserves beautiful things.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, trying to pretend he wasn’t blushing. “You’re trash.”

“For you, yes.”

“C’mere.” The taller boy gestured, cupping Roman’s cheek, kissing him softly. The prince pulled away before he would’ve liked, his own face flushed.

“Don’t get carried away, I have another thing.”

“ _Roman_.” Virgil groaned, putting his head in his hands, he was grateful. He just felt bad that his boyfriend was wasting his money.

“It’s not a birthday present. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Next week marks six months of us dating. Somehow you’re still with me.” He laughed a little, handing Virgil a box.

He opened it to see a ring with a chain looped through it, there were small black gems with the infinity symbol engraved between them, and the inside read something in a language he couldn’t read.

“It says, warrior, protector, beauty; my love.” Roman told him as he stared at it in awe. “I know sometimes you doubt yourself, and that you care too much about what everybody thinks. That’s to show you what I think of you, and the infinity means that it’s unchanging.”

Virgil set it at his side, pulling Roman by the shirt, their lips meeting with force. Roman smiled against him, kissing him back. He was sat on his knees in between the taller boy’s legs, his hand against Virgil's chest.

The emo pulled away, looking Roman in the eyes.

He adored his eyes. They seemed so warm compared to his own, golden, with flecks of darker brown scattered throughout, they just seemed to be inviting.

“I love you. Thank you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy Birthday Storm-cloud.”

The sun coming up over the park and the small town buildings, cascaded pink and pale orange over the sky, Roman leant against him, holding him, he felt safe.

He wore the necklace around his neck with pride, ignoring Joan poking fun at him for it. He knew they were kidding.

They and Talyn had matching rings after all.

Patton had put balloons and bunting up, bright flashes of colour that made Virgil feel like a kid. A mixture of old and emo music played softly throughout the house, as everybody chatted to one another.

He should’ve seen it coming, but people got him presents. It wasn’t that he wasn’t grateful, he was, he just didn’t want people to waste their money on him.

Logan gave him a new backpack, skull shaped fairy lights and a pack of glow in the dark stars for his room. “You do enjoy astronomy, and they are likely to calm you in the event of a nightmare.”

Patton gave him a purple apron, a black cat hoodie, and a pair of new shoes painted like The Nightmare Before Christmas. “I want you to start baking with me, you can’t bake without an apron!”

Talyn gave him makeup. At first he found it strange, but they explained that he’d looked interested in it the last time he was round at their and Joan’s house. They promised him that they’d teach him how to use it. “It was either this or purple hair dye, and I didn’t want Lo’ to kill me.”

Joan gave him art related things. Having seen his painting ability, they got him a sketchbook and a set of watercolours. “You use acrylics a lot like watercolours, I thought you’d wanna try them for real.”

When Virgil’s grandparents showed up, Joan turned to Roman, who was watching the emo endearingly. “Can I talk to you a sec?”

“Yeah, sure.” Roman replied, and they gestured for him to follow them upstairs.

“Lo and Pat are too nice to give you the shovel talk. But I'm an asshole.” They laughed a little, but it wasn’t mean. “Look, Virge, he’s like my little brother. If you hurt him, I swear to god you will regret it. You’re a nice kid, I know that, you clearly care about him a lot. But it doesn’t hurt to be safe y’know?”

Roman nodded at them, smiling softly to show he understood. “I’d never dream of it. He make’s me happier than anyone ever has.”

“That’s not to say that you’re forced to be nice to him. If he’s being an ass, he’s being an ass.” Joan replied, and Roman rolled his eyes at them. “But yeah, I care about him a lot, so don’t be a dick. Are we cool?”

“Yeah of course.”

Joan clapped him on the back. “Cool, I think they’re doing cake now, go serenade your boy.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes this is a long boi.   
> ya got more cute shit but I obviously couldn't write more than a chapter and a half. 
> 
> trigger warnings  
> homophobic slurs  
> abuse

Logan would be lying if he said he wasn’t freaking out.

He was more nervous than he had ever been.

Today was the day he was going to propose to Patton.

School had ended for the summer holidays. So, he was playing it off as him and Joan going to the café at the bakery, to work on future lesson plans. Virgil and Roman would be arriving ten minutes later, on a “date”. He knew that Patton would want a video to show his family, so he made sure that they’d have one. And when Patton brought Logan his second coffee, like Logan knew he would, he was going to stand up and take his hands.

He couldn’t sleep.

He desperately wanted to. If he was asleep he couldn’t worry as much.

But each possibility, each doubt and each fantasy, rushing through his head, faster than any of his thoughts usually were, made that an impossible feat.

Patton was sound asleep beside him. The teacher lay on his side, studying the older man’s face, every crease and contour, how the light impacted the shadows. He’d tried on numerous occasions to count the number of freckles speckling his cheeks, but he’d never achieved that goal. His highest count was two hundred and thirteen.

He didn’t have the words to explain how beautiful the man in front of him was. Despite knowing that how “perfect” something is, can be subjective. Without a doubt he’s say; the most perfect thing on earth was Patton Heart.

He knew how to bake perfectly well, but Patton didn’t know that, because every time they’d tried to bake together Logan got so caught up in staring at him that he poured too much flour or used salt instead of sugar.

Watching Patton in his element was a sight to behold. It was distracting.

Every movement, no matter how small, seemed to be graceful.

He smiled softly, pushing some hair that had fallen into the baker’s face away from it.

Sighing quietly, he turned to lay on his back, squeezing his eyes shut.

He supposed eventually he’d fallen asleep, because he woke up with a start, flinching before rubbing a hand over his face. Glancing over at the alarm clock, he turned over to Patton, shaking him gently.

“Bear, wake up, you have work.” The teacher spoke softly, his voice filled with sleep.

Patton groaned. “Yeah, yeah, in a sec.” He replied, grabbing Logan’s hand that was on his shoulder. Logan rolled his eyes, standing up to get dressed, pulling his hand away from the baker.

He went about the usual wash routine, his hands shaking due to nerves making things oddly difficult.

“In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.” He muttered to himself, trying to steady his breathing, splashing water into his face to try and bring himself back to reality. He looked at himself in the mirror, shaking his head, his eye bags the most prominent part of his face before he put his glasses back on. Slipping the frames onto his face he made his way back to their bedroom.

Virgil had commented on how even in summer Logan dressed like he always did. He smiled softly, pulling his shirt over his head. He heard a shuffle behind him as he pulled a black dress shirt from his side of the closet.

“Stop staring.” He ordered, and Patton laughed, Logan smiled knowing he had caught him.

“You didn’t even look!”

“I heard. And I predicted.” The taller man replied, turning around to see Patton standing up now, with his glasses on. He was wearing an oversized hoodie, and nothing but a pair of boxers on his lower half.

The baker trailed his fingers over Logan’s torso, Logan had to resist shivering at the gentle touch. He usually hated people looking at his stomach and chest, never mind touching it, the scars he’d drawn on himself were his biggest insecurity. But with Patton, he didn’t mind, he supposed he liked it. “Have I ever told you you’re beautiful?” Patton asked softly, his hands eventually resting at the younger man’s waist, and Logan rolled his eyes, smiling at the compliment nonetheless.

“Several times if I recall.” He replied, pressing a kiss to Patton’s cheek. “Get dressed, Bear, as much as I enjoy you like this, its not suitable for work.”

“Hey! I own the place!” Patton protested, grabbing a polo shirt from a chest of drawers despite his protests.

Logan laughed, buttoning his shirt. “Yeah, but I think you’ll find that not many customers, as well as your employees, will want to come in to the building. If you show up to work like that.” He explained, his voice laced with sarcasm, as he pulled on a pair of black slacks, handing Patton a pair of his khaki’s.

“Rude.” Patton replied, poking his tongue out, as he took it upon himself to button Logan’s top button.

“Bold of you to think I was ever polite.” Logan stuck his tongue out in return, pulling on his oxfords, making a mental note that they needed polished soon. “I'm making breakfast.”

“Don’t burn the house down.” Patton giggled, jumping slightly as Logan smacked his ass. “Hey! You perv!”

Virgil had the box, with the ring in it. Logan couldn’t risk keeping it in their bedroom, nor the study. Patton never usually went into Virgil’s room, unless it was to wake him up or ask him about something.

Despite his concern of the responsibility, Virgil complied anyway. He eventually decided to keep it in the top drawer of his desk, where he kept miscellaneous school things. It was a place Patton never looked.

The ring wasn’t anything ornate, it was a small band, the jeweller called it a Cobalt Groove. Logan knew practically nothing about jewellery, he picked it because he knew Patton would like it, minimalist seemed to be his aesthetic, for lack of a better word. It was simple, silver coloured with two black grooves around the edges.

The box it was in was minimalistic too, a navy-blue satin box that had a magnetic lid, to keep it closed in the pocket of the carrier.

He was reading by the time Patton came downstairs, the baker sat at the table beside him, eating in silence as Logan read. He was finding it difficult to focus on the words, his knee was jittering as anxiety pent up in his chest.

“See you later Lo’, love you.” Patton spoke, pressing a kiss to Logan’s temple as he stood up. Logan smiled at him.

“Bye.” His voice was quiet, as he watched the older man go.

Virgil slipped down the stairs, moments later, his hair tousled, his eyebags as great as Logan's. He had with the velvet box in his hand. “Here take it, I-I don’t wanna keep it longer than I have to.” He smiled sheepishly, and Logan smiled at him softly, standing up to put it in his pocket.

“Thanks love, I really appreciate it.” He replied, his voice shaky, still worrying. He set down Virgil’s place in front of him.

“He’s gonna say yes, Papa, any way you slice it. Stop worrying.” Virgil sat at the table.

Logan laughed. “You can’t blame me for overthinking.”

“No but I can call you irrational for it.” The teenager grinned as Logan scowled at him.

“Fair. Now eat your breakfast.”

Joan talked animatedly about what they’d be teaching their A-Level students, Logan listened to them intently as they walked through the door of the bakery.

Focusing on something that wasn’t the proposal was definitely calming him further.

“Hey Joan! Hey Lo’” Talyn greeted the two of them as they stood behind the counter.

Logan offered them a nod and a smile, feeling panic rise in his throat, scared to say anything in case he wound of being sick.

“Get us some coffee?” Joan asked, gesturing to Logan and rolling their eyes. Talyn smiled and nodded They knew what was going down today, Logan would almost hazard to say that they were more excited than he was. “We’ll be at table two.”

Logan sat down, facing toward the counter and kitchen door, so he would know when Patton was in the café area. Joan sat opposite him and they leant in closer. “You need to chill, he’s gonna notice something’s up if you don’t calm down.”

“Believe me I’m trying.” Logan sighed, pushing his glasses up.

“You’re the best actor I know, just look focused.”

“Well let’s actually do lesson plans and maybe I will.” Logan hissed back at them, and they grinned at him as he rolled his eyes.

Talyn set down two mugs, and Logan smiled at them in thanks. “You know to let _him_ get the second round?” He asked.

“Yup.” They sighed softly noticing how nervous the teacher looked. “Don’t worry Logo, I got you covered.”

Patton walked out from the kitchen, tray in hand and flour covered apron, he slid the tray of freshly baked pastries into the display.

Logan looked back to his papers before the baker looked up and noticed him staring.

“Lo’! You didn’t tell me you were coming!” He called over, and Logan looked up, Joan turning around to face the baker as he made his way over. “Whatcha up to?”

“Lesson plans. Our dear old dictionary is freaking out now the curriculum’s changed.” Joan answered quickly, because Logan looked like he was about to be sick.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Don’t stress about it Owl, you have the whole summer.” Patton gave him a reassuring smile, before heading to the counter, where Talyn was currently dealing with a customer.

The bell rang and through it walked Virgil and Roman, their hands intertwined.

Virgil nodded over to Logan who returned it, with a nervous smile. “Hey Dad!” He called to Patton who was heading back into the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo!” The baker turned to smile at his son before grabbing a second tray, bringing it out to the counter, smiling as Virgil and Roman walked up to him. “Logan’s here too. You guys sitting in?”

“Yeah.” Roman replied.

“So, what can I get you two?”

“Uh, hot chocolate and, did you want a muffin as well?” The emo turned to Roman who nodded. “Yeah, two of each.” He replied to his Dad, staring right past his boyfriend in the direction of Logan, who was drinking his coffee. Virgil could’ve facepalmed at the teacher’s knee jittering, he wasn’t being inconspicuous to say the least.

“Alright.” Patton ignored the money Roman set on the counter, sliding it back toward the younger boy, despite his annoyance the Prince put it back in his pocket.

“Pat, I’ll get the kids sorted, go get your calculator another coffee.” Talyn told the older man, who rolled his eyes, smiling, handing the order slip to them.

Patton took their mugs from the table. “Made any more progress?”

“Yeah, a lot of mine can stay the same, Lo’ got unlucky.” Joan nodded.

Logan supposed the coffee helped out his nerves, maybe the lack of sleep was making him more jittery. Despite the swirling in his stomach, he was able to reply. “Yes, I’m thinking I’ll put Prehistory, River Valley Civilisations in the first term, rather than just the one.” He spoke, still writing, before looking up at Patton.

“You’re such a nerd. More coffee?” Patton replied, holding up the two mugs.

The teacher nodded, smiling at the older man. “That would be fantastic.”

“Comin’ right up.” Logan watched him as he walked, despite his best efforts not to stare.

Joan giggled. “You’re so in love, it’s actually hilarious.”

“I could say the exact same thing to you.”

“But ya’ don’t!” They gave him finger guns and he shook his head.

“He’s coming back, shut your mouth.” Logan spoke quietly, turning back to his notes, trying to act natural.

“Good luck.” They whispered, before Patton set two mugs down on their table.

“Coffee, black, two sugars. Coffee with milk, one sugar.”

“Right on the money.” Logan replied, glancing up at him. “What happened to the cat print apron, it was cute.” He noted, gesturing with his pen to the plain black apron tied around Patton’s waste.

Patton blushed slightly. “It caught fire.”

“I mean the black looks good, don’t get me wrong.” He grinned as Patton rolled his eyes.

“Stop flirting with me when I'm working!” The baker laughed, turning to walk away, but Logan stood up, grabbing his hand before he could.

“Hey, I did wanna ask you something.” He glanced over to the table Virgil was sat at. The teenager had his phone recording and gave him the thumbs up.

“And what’s that?” Patton asked, eyebrow raised, as Logan took his hands in his own. .

“Well,” He took in a breath, looking Patton in the eyes. “If you’d told me, when I was fourteen, thrown into a new school and put a year ahead, that I’d be here, I wouldn’t believe you. All I knew was that I was stuck tutoring this adorable idiot who couldn’t do long-division.” Patton scowled at him, but Logan continued. “I’d do it a thousand years over if I knew I’d end up with you here. I’m not one for clichés, but you’re my light, my love, my reason for being, I’m happier than I’ve ever been, and I don’t want it to ever end.”

Patton smiled, a blush creeping onto his face. “Logan what are you-“ He cut himself off as Logan got down on one knee, still holding his hands.

When Logan let go of his hands he raised them to cover his mouth. “So, will you make it forever? Patton Heart, will you do me the honour of being my husband?” Logan pulled the box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring.

Patton was crying now, happy tears, Logan recognised it. “You smartass idiot! Yes- O-Of course!” He cried, throwing his arms around the teacher’s neck once he stood up. He stood on his toes as Logan held him back.

He could hear Joan wolf-whistling and the rest of the shop clapping for them.

When the older man pulled away, Logan caught him in a kiss, soft but still adoring.

“I love you.” Patton spoke once they broke away from each other.

“Always.”

 

****

* * *

 

 

 

Logan sat watching TV, Carbon laying at his side. Patton was in their room, he was getting dressed for dinner, Logan presumed Virgil was doing the same.

Patton had reminisced about the times his parents had taken him and Valerie to restaurants as a kid. The realisation came swiftly after that the three of them had not been out together as a family yet. And considering Patton and Logan’s recent engagement, it could be treated as a celebration as well as a break from wedding planning.

They were going out to have a nice time, and Logan could not be more excited.

A sharp knock on the door took Logan off guard. He was almost tempted to ignore it, as Carbon barked at it.

But he supposed it could be important, so he walked over, opening it.

A middle-aged couple stood at the door.

The man wore a buttoned black pea-coat, his face stern. He had brown hair, combed back, and his eyes were cold and unwelcoming. Just looking at him he didn’t look over forty.

The woman wore a salmon coloured Capulet jacket, her lipstick a dark mauve. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde, her eyes a piercing blue, and her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Mother, Father.” Logan addressed them, his expression annoyed. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Clearly with that waistcoat.” His father replied, and his mother led their way into the house, pushing past the teacher.

Logan scoffed, staring at them in disbelief. “I didn’t invite you in. You spent majority of my life teaching me basic manners, how come you’ve forgotten yours?” He asked, shutting the door so Carbon didn’t run out, he didn’t want her ruining the flower beds.

“I'm your mother.” Her retort was sharp.

“So, the rules don’t apply? I’ll keep that in mind.” He noted, his expression still cold toward them, watching them seemingly _inspect_ their house. “Seeing as you’ve invaded my home, the least you could do is tell me why?” He asked, leaning against the breakfast bar.

“We were informed that you were engaged. Yet, no wedding invitation, nor a save the date has come through our door. Care to explain?” His Father spoke, looking at him expectantly.

His father was in the army, part of the reason he was so insistent on discipline, his hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood with equally stiff posture as his son.

“Oh, Mother, are you really that naïve? You weren’t invited, I thought that was a simple deduction.” Logan replied with as much sarcasm as his anxiety would allow him.

Logan’s mother gave him a look of offence. “Excuse me? We are your parents, we have every right to be invited.”

The teacher was born when they were teenagers, so they weren’t old, some of Logan’s co-workers were older than them.

“It’s my wedding, and surely that should be enough to tip you off as to why you aren’t coming.” They still looked confused, and he smirked, liking the fact that for once he had the high ground. “I'm marrying Patton.”

“Oh yes, I forgot you happen to be… _That_ way.” His father replied, sniffing in disgust. “Its just a fling, love like _that_ won’t last long.”

“Your love lasted all but the ten minutes it took to conceive me, yet here you are.” Logan replied, his expression unchanging, just as cold as the two looking back at him.

Before they could reply footsteps came from upstairs. “Lo? Who was at the door-“ Patton’s voice came before he did, bouncing down the stairs in his usual pleasant manner. He was wearing a floral button up; a pale pink bow-tie adorned his neck. “Oh, Jonathan, Lillian what an unpleasant surprise?” He furrowed his brow at the two, glancing at Logan, who gave him just as much of a frustrated glare. He was just as unhappy about this as the baker.

“That’s Mr and Mrs Sanders to you.” Lillian ordered him, shooting daggers at him, but he didn’t react.

“Well, I'm a grown man, and _you_ are in _my_ house uninvited. So, I’ll call you what I like, Lily.” Patton retorted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“How do you know we’re uninvited?” Jonathan replied, smarmily.

“Plain and simple. Both Logan and I aren’t on good terms with you. Old age really got you two huh?” He replied, walking over to Logan, knowing that if the younger man caved, he’d be there to help him.

“Weren’t you ever taught manners?” Lillian spat back at him.

Patton laughed, still in disbelief at the nerve of these two people. “I have more than you do.”

“Clearly.”

“Papa! Can you help me tie my-“ Virgil came running down the stairs, stopping before he reached the bottom, looking in confusion at the two couples standing opposite each other in their living room. He had never seen the man and woman before. “Tie…” He finished his sentence, still looking at them, now they’d turned to glare at him. “Uh, hi, I’m Virgil. Not to be rude, but who are you?” He asked, smiling sheepishly, forcing his shoulders into a relaxed position.

They ignored him, and the woman turned back to Logan. “What is that?” She gestured to the teenager.

“That _person_ ,” Patton interrupted. “Is our son, Virgil. Like he _just_ told you. And I’d thank you kindly to treat him with the same respect as you would, your peers.”

“Virgil, what an idiotic name.” The woman spoke, and Virgil gripped the banister.

“Mother, your name is Lillian, your husbands name is Jonathan, and you named your only child Logan. The blandest names in the book, at least he has personality.” Logan replied, his tone bitter, he gave Virgil a reassuring glance.

He knew more than anyone that Virgil was insecure about his name, considering the fact he’d been too scared to give the teacher his name when they first met. Scared that his biggest idol would think it was stupid.

So, these were Logan’s parents?

Virgil had never met them, he hoped he never had to.

Yet here they were.

Judging by the glares both his Dad _and_ Papa were giving them; they weren’t supposed to be.

Jonathan scowled at Patton, before turning back to his son. “And he doesn’t know how to tie a tie, look at his posture Logan, what kind of child are you raising!?”

Virgil resisted the urge to straighten his back. He hated being under judgement. He stared at the floor, knowing that they were still staring at him.

“A better one than you did.” Logan snapped back, his tone more violent now.

“You ungrateful little bastard, your mother and I raised a successful businessman. Not a pathetic whelp of a teacher that wound up as a faggot!” Carbon barked as Logan’s father yelled at him, Virgil snapped his head up, feeling the panic rise in his throat as Jonathan walked toward his Papa. Logan’s father glared at the dog. “And this filthy animal, in your home? You’re a pathetic waste of space.”  Virgil watched horrified as Jonathan brought his hand down, slapping across Logan’s face.

There was an audible smack, and Virgil’s stomach turned.

“Logan!” Patton gasped, as the teacher placed his hand against the slap mark. The baker turned to stand against the man in front of him, but he was cut off before he could.

“Hey!” Virgil yelled, to catch their attention, he rushed down the rest of the stairs. “Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Patton looked at him, his glance a mixture of warning and fear. “Virgil don’t!” He hissed.

Virgil didn’t listen, he stood as tall as he could, and Logan’s dad turned to face him, looking at him pugnaciously.

This wasn’t his first rodeo, and he’d just gotten over the last.

“I don’t care who the fuck you think you are, or who you know, or how up in society you may be; but that does not give you the right to hurt my Papa.” Virgil spoke angrily, his tone fierce, his fists clenched. He cut off the man in front of him before he could respond. “This is my house. _My_ dad, _my_ Papa and _my_ dog. This is my family. You lost your right to this family, to their _wedding_ , the moment you hit Logan when he tried to apologise. The moment you decided to take so much from him that he was barely living. The moment you broke him so much that it took Patton to hold him together.”

“I will _not_ have you in our home, just to break him again.” He spat, his fists closed so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his hand, it was the only thing distracting him from Logan and Patton staring at him in fear, and Lillian standing with her arms folded, she looked proud of her husband.

Jonathan laughed, hubristic. “And what are you going to do? You’re as thin as a bean pole. What a pathetic excuse for a son.” He raised his hand again, Virgil flinched at the contact, the force of the hit turning his head to the side. The sound came before the pain, searing into his cheek.

“VIRGIL!” Logan screamed, but Patton held him back. He knew by now that once Virgil had started, he wouldn’t stop.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes, cracking his neck as he looked back at him, “Was that supposed to hurt asshole? You don’t know what I’ve been through. And the fact that I'm still standing here, standing against you; should be enough indicator that these men, my parents, are better parents than you could ever dream to be! You aren’t welcome here, get out.” He pointed toward the door.

“Gladly.” The older man spat, marching toward the door, his wife following suit. Their door closed with a slam, and moments later Virgil dropped to his knees, tears rolling down his face.

Carbon padded her way over, licking his face, until he pushed her away with his hand, needing a second to breath.

“Virgil, are you okay?” Logan asked him frantically, kneeling down in front of the younger boy, Patton did the same. “He didn’t break anything, you aren’t bleeding?” The teacher tilted the younger boy’s head up.

“I-I-I’m fine. I just- I need to- I-I’m sorry!” He broke into tears, before he could speak, and Logan pulled him to his chest, resting his chin on top of Virgil's head as he rubbed his back. Virgil gripped Logan’s shirt.

“You have nothing to apologise for, love. You were so brave. So fucking brave, Virgil.” The teacher spoke softly.

Virgil pulled himself away from Logan’s embrace, wrapping his arms around himself, staring at the floor. “I-I don’t think I can go o-out anymore. I’m s=sorry. C-Can we just watch a-a movie or something?”

“Of course, kiddo, it’s no big deal.” Patton replied, pressing something cold wrapped in a hand towel against his face. “Black Cauldron?”

“Please.” He replied.

“Sure thing, honey.”

The room seemed to be spinning, every noise seemed to be louder than it was before. Virgil just wanted to collapse.

His cheek was throbbing, and he gripped the make-shift ice-pack with shaky hands.

Logan grabbed his hand. “Virgil look at me, I know what’s happening right now, but please just look at me.” Logan asked him, almost begging him at this point. Despite not wanting to, Virgil trusted Logan, so he forced his head up, trying not to look away as his eyes met with the teachers. “Now listen to me, okay? You’re doing so well. This will pass, this feeling will pass, the knot will untie, the paper will unfold. You’re going to be okay. Deep breaths Virgil. Just breathe.” He spoke, repeating the mantra until he could visibly see Virgil calming down.

They ended up sprawled out on the couch, after several movies and take out Chinese food. Logan was leaning against Patton, his arm resting across the baker’s chest. Virgil’s head rested in the baker’s lap. Patton had won hand clasped in Virgil’s, and the other on Logan’s back. The title screen of the movie was playing on loop, the three of them having fallen asleep.

The storm had calmed.

Their house was quiet.

Things were going to be alright.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rough chapter, but you'll appreciate it I'm sure. 
> 
> trigger warnings  
> mentions of abuse  
> mentions of rape  
> ptsd flashbacks
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> (p.s I did a little research on how a trial works but not much. so its not accurate, but I wanted to write it. Im pretty sure in virgils case, a trial wouldn't be needed anyway. Im not a lawyer, I don't know shit. don't @ me)

Virgil clenched his hand around Roman’s. It was far too hard to be pleasant, but the shorter boy didn’t mention it, he shuffled in discomfort before tracing his thumb over the back of the emo’s hand in attempt to calm him down.

He was standing with his parents and his boyfriend, on the steps of a courtroom.

He’d seemed to be involved with the law a lot recently.

After their unpleasant visit, Logan looked into a restraining order against his parents. They were no longer permitted in his home, or at either his, nor Patton’s work. As well as a ban on speaking to Virgil, period.

The second time, this time, however, was going to be a lot more complicated.

Joan had done their research. After Virgil spilled his story to them, they went after these Eddie and Julia people. He supposed some sibling protectiveness drove them to it. He never asked, nor implied.

Eventually they tracked them down. Edward and Juliet Norton, widely known in their town for their good deeds and foster children. Digging through their Facebook profiles he discovered posts from a year ago, saying that their middle most child, Virgil, had run away from home.

But there was no further mentions of him after that, no confirmation that he’d been found, no confirmation that he was even still alive.

Joan had shown Virgil the photos and he’d nodded, going silent from whatever banter had originally been on his lips. His heart beating faster at the vision of those two smiling faces, that easily contorted into anger with enough provocation.

It would have been simple after that, had Edward and Juliet not had a clean record, and protested for a court hearing.

After persuasion and reasoning, Joan had Virgil livid and ready to take them to prison, where they belonged, where they were supposed to have been for years at this point.

So, here he was.

Patton had talked about getting an attorney, but Virgil insisted they wouldn’t need one, it would be a waste of money in the end. He wasn’t full of himself, he just knew it would work fine. He had the scars to prove what they did, he didn’t need a fancy negotiator or a law degree, to state hard facts. He was trusting the adrenaline rush to keep him standing.

Roman was backup in case he took a panic attack. He was the best at calming Virgil down. Unless it was a full-blown PTSD caused panic attack, of which Virgil had never had in his presence, he could have Virgil back to talking in a matter of minutes.

“It’s gonna be fine storm-cloud. We’ll go out for ice-cream after, just me and you, alright?” Roman murmured to him as they walked into the room. “Besides, you look hot in a waistcoat.”

Virgil would’ve scowled at him if it weren’t for the fact that he was on the verge of throwing up.

There were the seats for family members, and beyond them, the two podium desks.

A security guard stood in between them, there were two more manning either door, and one who stood by the judge’s bench.

Logan placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, wishing him luck (“Break a metaphorical leg, Rabbit.”) and Patton ruffled his hair, much to his annoyance, but Roman fixed it for him.

The couple walked through the door moments later, they of course, had a lawyer. Virgil’s breath hitched as he stared at them, they hadn’t changed in the slightest, it’d been almost a year since he’d seen them, and Roman squeezed his hand noticing his shoulders tense up.

When the judge sat down and banged the gavel, Roman dropped his hand.

“All rise, court is in session, parties have been sworn in, you may be seated. For the case between Heart,” She gestured to Virgil. “And Norton.”

“Mr Heart. You claim that Mr and Mrs Norton are drug and child abusers, and are charging them for said abuse as well as neglect, is this correct?” She had a kind face, bare of makeup, her eyes were tired. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun, and she clenched the gavel with a ferocity not to be reckoned with.

Virgil took a breath before answering, trying his best not to appear intimidated or nervous, even though he was an incredulous amount of both. “Y-Yes, your honour.”

“And you, Mr and Mrs Norton claim that Mr Heart is a liar, and that he suffers from delusions as a result of anxiety.” The judge herself looked unimpressed with their retort.

Their attorney stood by them, a pristine suit and a tie clip that was far too expensive to be practical. “Yes, your honour.” Even he looked unconvinced by their reasoning. Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them bullied or blackmailed him into it.

Virgil resisted the urge to scoff at their comment on anxiety. Uneducated assholes. He could see Roman’s fists clench under the desk, clearly feeling the same outrage as him.

He knew for a fact if he turned around, Logan would be wearing a scowl and Patton would be rubbing circles into his knee, trying to calm him down as subtly as possible.

The judge turned to Virgil again. “Is this true, do you have anxiety? There aren’t any records of it that we have.”

“I suffer from panic attacks but have never been clinically diagnosed.” Virgil replied, his tone was proper, almost a full imitation of Logan when he taught.

“I see, and who are you?” She directed her gaze to Roman, who was stood beside Virgil.

He glanced up, putting a proper sort of smile on his lips. “Roman Prince, your honour.”

“And your purpose here?”

“Moral support, if Virgil is to take a panic attack, that is.” Roman replied swiftly, the judge nodded.

“Alright, Mr Heart, it says you have photographic evidence of scars that Mr and Mrs Norton inflicted on you, I have to see those.”

Virgil handed the printed photographs to one of the security guards, who brought them to the judge. The formality of the whole situation seemed to keep his shoulders permanently tensed, and he was forced to clasp his hands behind his back, to resist taking Roman’s.

Taking those photos wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, Talyn used their camera and make up lights to shoot them. They made it fun for him, playing music, giving witty commentary and encouraging him to enjoy himself.

“I… I see.” The judge spoke quietly as she looked through the pages, she looked disgusted, but her face corrected itself to the bland expression it had been before once she set them down. Majority of the scars were on Virgil's back, but there was, the burns on his legs in addition to those. “And how were they inflicted?”

Virgil knew he couldn’t falter here. “To my knowledge, all the ones in my back were with a cane, the burns were from cigarette butts and roaches, and the ones in my head were from the breakage of glass bottles.”

“Objection your honour, lack of substantial proof.” Their lawyer stood up, the judge gestured for him to continue with his point, she looked sceptical of his reasoning.

“You may proceed.”

 “Those photographs could be easily taken from the internet.” The attorney stated as if it were obvious.

“Mr Heart?”

Virgil laughed, not disrespectfully, almost rehearsed. “I mean if I have to strip to prove it to you, I will. Those scars are very much there.” He replied.

The lawyer glanced at his clients who were unchanging in expression, though Juliet shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “If they were there from he’d been staying with my clients then why would the case only be brought up now. Clearly, it- it’s a fabricated memory caused by his anxiety.”

“Objection, speculation.” Virgil replied calmly. He’d been run through the objections and the formalities the day before. “I can assure you, that the last foster family I was with were the Nortons, I was with them from age seven to age thirteen, before they kicked me out of their home and onto the streets.” He resisted the bitterness and anger that wanted to force its way into his tone.

The judge nodded, writing something down. “As for why you’ve only brought it up now?”

“Fear. As I said, I have anxiety issues. My closest friends managed to convince me to run against them, once they found out about it. Anxiety does not cause the fabrication of memories, although sometimes I wish it would.” He attempted a small insert of humour, which deemed to be ineffective.

“And was there any sexual abuse?” The judge spoke, her tone of voice almost pained,v she tried to keep her tone the same, but Virgil knew she was starting to believe him.

Virgil took a breath, finding Roman’s hand under the table, he squeezed his eyes shut, now wishing that he hadn’t brought Roman here. He knew the question would be asked, he just didn’t think. “Y-Yes. Statutory rape. Which is just my word, until or if one of my foster siblings can be located.”

“The charges of neglect, Mr Heart.”

“There were days we weren’t fed, the house wasn’t a suitable accommodation for six children and two adults, and they would often leave the house and not come back for days. We were unable to locate any of my foster siblings to confirm it completely, so again, just my word alone.”

“I’ve seen and heard enough. Edward and Juliet Norton charged for child abuse, neglect and sexual assault of a minor. A fifteen-year sentence, which, with further evidence could potentially be extended.”

“You fucking brat! I’ll kill you for this you worthless bastard!” Eddie tried to lunge at him, but was stopped and pinned to the ground by the security guard, and Virgil had never been more appreciative of another person’s existence.

Virgil stumbled back at the lunge, swiftly caught by Roman, who pushed him back to his feet, bracing him by the shoulders. “It’s alright storm-cloud, just breathe.” Roman spoke quietly, his hands grounding Virgil in reality as they held his shoulders firmly. “It’s okay baby, I got you, you’re gonna be okay…”

His voice was fading from Virgil’s ears, as the faint yells and muffled music filled them.

Virgil was stuck in his memories, the lunge and the smash of the bottle, the pain crashing down so hard on his forehead he could barely breathe.

Footsteps that weren’t from the visions grew closer.

“He’s shaking Lo what’s happening?” Patton asked frantically, his tone was filled with concern.

“Sir do we need to call 911?” One of the security guards asked.

Something cold, hands he would imagine pressed against his forehead, and he flinched against the touch, pain spreading into his skull from the bottle. “My best guess is a flashback. No, emergency services won’t be necessary.” Logan's collected voice flooded through his ears, but Virgil couldn’t see them, his senses overridden by memory.

Was this a nightmare?

“What do we do?” Roman asked from behind him, he wanted to turn and look at him, but he couldn’t.

He wanted to break out of it, but he was frozen there, standing, cold in the hallway. His uncomfortable hand-me-down sweatpants trailing at his bare feet, his arms wrapped around himself in order to conserve body heat, the house was always cold. He was watching his foster father puff out a breath of smoke before advancing toward him, and fast. The smirk on his face told Virgil that he needed to run, or _bad_ things were going to happen.

He screamed, thrashing against the restraints at kept him in place but they held firm.

“Take off the waistcoat, it’s constricting him.”

He heard rustling of fabric, faintly and he felt colder still. Flinching back as the panic rose in his throat and the pain grew stronger.

“Virgil listen to me. I don’t know where you are right now, or what’s happening, but listen to me, okay?

“I-I brought his headphones, music is a grounding technique isn’t it?”

“Roman you genius.”

Softly his music began to play, and he felt his pulse slow, beating in time with the slow bass strums, his breathing beginning to steady, the melody superseding the screams, his screams, and they stopped.

He stopped.

His eyes were still squeezed shut, and they stayed like that.

Until he woke up.

He was in his bed.

He hadn’t been in his bed before, the fairy lights gleamed their soft silver light against his walls, so he knew where he was.

That didn’t make sense. He’d been in court and then…

Oh no.

He sat up suddenly, the blood rushing to his head caused him to sway, and he steadied himself. He was no longer in his trousers, but a pair of pyjama pants, and the tightly uncomfortable dress-shirt was no longer wrapped around his chest, nothing was in fact.

It wasn’t the first time he’d fainted.

The first was with the homeless network. Somebody had been drinking under the bridge, they chucked the bottle at Jesse, and it came just short of hitting Virgil.

The smashing of the glass triggered something, and he was screaming again.

He was sure some onlooker would’ve called 911 had Jesse not muffled Virgil with his hand until eventually he collapsed.

Carbon was at the end of the bed, shaken awake by his movement. She licked his face until he blocked her with his hand, scratching behind her ears, petting her despite the shakiness in his fingers.

“No more nightmares now, girl.” He spoke softly, as if she could understand him. “They’re gone, for a while at least.”

He stumbled to his feet, his head throbbing with ache, and sharp pain shooting through his back.

Wincing, he pulled a t-shirt over his head, opening his door. He used the banister to hold himself up, his other hand clenched as if it would get rid of the trembling in his fingers.

Roman was asleep in Logan’s armchair, his face resting on his hand, a frown on his sleeping face. His chest moved rhythmically, the tie he wore now untied and slung over his shoulders. Poor bastard, Virgil made note to wake him, and get him to an actual bed.

Patton was knitting, Virgil assumed out of stress, because his hands were working faster and with less precision than usual. The wool he was using was nearly done, seemingly he’d begun something knew and simple just to take his mind off of it. His engagement band clicked against the metal needles as he worked, creating a steady rhythm in the silence of the room.

Logan was laying on the sofa reading, his brightly patterned, sock covered feet resting in Patton's lap. His glasses lay at his side, and his brow was furrowed, either out of concentration on the words or worry over Virgil.

Somehow it was oddly calm. Despite his head hurting, and his complete lack of a conception of time, Virgil felt relieved.

“I fainted.”

“Yep.”

“Are you guys okay?”

“Yep.”

“Can I make some cereal?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

 

****

* * *

 

 

 

“Roller-skating? Really Roman?” Virgil looked at his boyfriend in disbelief.

The prince pouted, not a frown, no, he legitimately stuck his bottom lip out on purpose, trying to make a point.

“Well yeah, one opened up a while ago. I thought we could get the bus, go on an actual date for once.” He replied. “It’s my birthday soon anyway, consider you going with me a gift.”

“No.”

“No to what?” Roman asked, laying back on Virgil's lap.

“No, it’s not a gift. When were you thinking?” The taller boy asked. He already had a present for Roman, but he tried not to make it obvious

“Tuesday.” Roman mused. He had Virgil's hand in his own, and was currently tracing the outline of Virgil’s slender fingers.

The taller boy shrugged. “I’ll ask dad. I don’t know how he’ll feel about me getting the bus.” Patton was still uneasy about him going places. Virgil couldn’t blame him, after everything Virgil had put him through it wasn’t a wonder why.

“ _Please_ , its only like half an hour away. You’re fifteen!” Roman’s smile was smug.

It was his birthday soon, and he loved to rub the fact that he was older than Virgil, in his face.

“Oh, look at you, Mr I’m-nearly-sixteen.” Virgil mocked him.

“Thanks for noticing.”

“Anytime.”

That was how Virgil ended up at a roller rink on a Tuesday afternoon.

Roman seemed to have a great interest in old fashioned things. Virgil not so much.

But the grin on Romans face as he dragged Virgil, on unsteady feet, to the rink, was enough to make him disregard his apprehensions.

The prince went for blades instead of skates, Virgil, refusing to be out-finessed, chose them as well.

He regretted that decision.

“You’ve never skated, huh?”

Virgil laughed. “My parents made me sleep in a dishwasher box, no I haven’t.” He knew Roman had come to terms with his humour, often times referring to his own struggle. Roman knew by now that he could just as easily play along with the joke, and that Virgil wouldn’t care.

Roman faked a look of amazement. “You had a dishwasher?”

“Shocking I know. If I fall on my ass, it’s your fault.”

“Ill deal with the consequences. Here, take my hands.” Roman replied, still facing Virgil as the taller boy took his hands, skating backwards.

They were two of maybe five people in the rink, the other that were there seemed to be just as inexperienced as Virgil was. That was comforting.

“How the fuck can you do that?” Virgil asked, still not skating, sort of attempting to walk in the skates.

“Grandpa was a figure skater when he was young, threw me into it as soon as he could. Its truly good for your balance.” Roman replied, smiling softly at his boyfriend, who had now turned scarlet.

“Oh god, now I feel stupid.”

“Alright, you’re clomping about like you’re wearing moon shoes. They have wheels for a reason.” The prince spoke in sarcasm, and Virgil stuck his tongue out. “Right, skate outward okay, just push forward and glide.”

Eventually, after enough coaching from Roman, and upwards of two falls, Virgil had the hang of it.

The guilt of occupying Roman’s time with his lack of experience quickly vanished, as Roman smiled at him, genuine happiness radiating from his face.

“Go show off, I’ll be fine on my own for a little while.” Virgil insisted. He could see the supervisor staring at him, and he needed an excuse to get his hands of Roman’s waist before they got kicked out for indecency.

The prince giggled, pulling away, and skating around the rink with ease, he twisted and turned like it was basic common sense to do so.

Virgil in the meantime, tried to go at a faster pace. Eventually he got bored and decided to see if he could do the backwards skating thing that Roman had done before.

“Hey Ro, I'm doing it!” He called over to Roman, as he managed to figure out how to propel himself backwards, maybe not as agile as the prince was able. But nobody could deny that he was, in fact, going backwards.

Roman seemed to slip across the floor effortlessly. He pressed a kiss to Virgil's lips once he was close enough.

“How about you show me something cool?” The emo asked, seemingly commanding it from him.

Roman sighed, still smiling. He was enjoying himself here, and Virgil was pleased with that alone, yet the new skill he’d learned, though he doubted it would be handy anywhere other than here.

“Alright, you want some spins?”

“And a jump.”

“I gotcha covered.” He let go of Virgil before taking off around the rink, doing a lap to gain momentum, before trying anything special.

The first spin was impressive enough, Virgil marvelled at his grace, this softer side of Roman he’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. This just seemed to be where he belonged, swift and elegant. The prince then proceeded to crouch, curling his arms into himself as he twirled like a top, and Virgil stood, astounded as he watched.

He stood up as if it were effortless, throwing himself into the air, turning almost in slow motion, and Virgil's breath hitched, releasing as Roman landed safely, into a backward skate, which continued until he reached Virgil, losing momentum enough for the emo to skate alongside him, as he tried to catch his breath.

The taller boy stared at him, he just wanted to kiss him senseless. “That was phenomenal. You were gorgeous.”

Roman grinned, doing a little twirl. “What a flirt.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

“I am aware.” Virgil replied as they exited the rink, stumbling to one of the benches, unbuckling the roller skates, and slipping on his shoes, glad to have flat soles on his feet again. “So, what now?”

“They have a fifties diner down the road.” Roman replied, taking Virgil's hand as they left the building, the air refreshing, and the natural light almost blinding.

“Let me guess, you wanna share a milkshake?” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“I mean duh, I was gonna get fries too.”

“God you’re such a cliché.”

“I blame the media.” Roman replied simply, as they walked through the doors, the soft swing of blues music filled the room. Virgil dropped his hand to take off his hoodie, it was too warm to wear it anyway.

“How can I help you boys?” A waitress greeted them, she had her hair in two braids, her uniform yellow and red, she was about their age, slightly older than them maybe. “Table for two?” Roman nodded, smiling at her, she smiled back at him, glancing over him.

She led them to a window table for two. “And what can I get you?”

“A chocolate couples shake, and some fries.” Roman replied, after taking a swift glance over the menu.

The waitress gave them a once over, her facial expression changing slightly, her smile to Roman faker than it had been before. “That’ll be with you in a sec.” She nodded, before walking away.  

“She was checking you out.” Virgil spoke after she’d gone.

Roman laughed. “I ordered a couples milkshake, I’m very clearly dating a boy.”

“Keyword: was.” Virgil replied. “She looked disappointed when she realised. If I’d have known I wouldn’t have dropped your hand.”

“Is somebody jealous?” Roman smiled, slightly startled to say the least, he hadn’t taken Virgil to be the jealous type. If he’d let himself admit it, he did like it, quite a lot. He felt wanted. Desireable.

“How could I not be? I have the most gorgeous boy in the country. Who’s to stop me from making out with you right now, just to prove you’re taken?”

Roman went red to his ears at the thought and the compliment, he liked it when Virgil was confident. “Hey, save that for later.”

“Only because you asked nicely.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing too exciting, some spoopy Halloween action. Im very tired. 
> 
> no triggers I can think of. 
> 
> hope you enjoy it!

Summer went by quickly, and the leaves turned to reds and browns as Halloween drew near.

Virgil was quite excited for Halloween this year. Last year hadn’t been anything to scream about. A simple visit from Joan and Talyn on their way to some costume party, and Patton handing out candy to the kids that showed up at their door.

He supposed it was mostly because Patton was still adjusting to both Virgil and Logan living in his house, the thought of Halloween just got swept under the rug.

He’d been experimenting with the makeup Talyn bought him for his birthday, usually just investigational things, learning how different things interacted, what he liked and what he didn’t.

But once he was done with that, he wanted to venture into special effects makeup. Halloween being the perfect excuse for him to start.

After much bickering about how he refused to be the Robin to his batman, he and Roman had decided on the joker and a male Harley Quinn. It took a lot more effort, but it was better than wearing underwear over leggings, and being called a side-kick.

Roman was just insistent on a couple’s costume, that dork, so he wasn’t complaining.

Logan and Patton decided on Captain Hook and Peter Pan. Virgil knew it was the sole purpose of Logan getting a fancy coat.

Joan and Talyn were throwing a party at their apartment, and the Heart-Sanders family, as well as a Prince had been invited.

Roman lay on his bedroom floor, on his phone, as he sat at his desk in front of a mirror. He was doing his own make-up, then he’d do Romans. He just hoped it turned out well, Talyn was anticipating his costume, and he wanted to surprise them.

Some Queen songs were playing from Patton’s laptop, Virgil had borrowed it because it played louder than his phone.

“Did you hear about what happened in art the other day?” Roman asked. Virgil made a noise of acknowledgement, questioning, trying to keep his face as still as possible as he worked with the silicon. “Some kid beat a freshman over the head with a wooden art stool.”

Despite the comical nature of what he’d been told he restrained a laugh. “Oh fuck, was he okay?” He asked, turning round in his seat, his words slightly slurred as he waited for the silicon to dry. He poked Roman in the side with his foot, to get a response.

“Yeah, Aiden, you know him, he sits by us in chemistry. He got the dude away from him, got hit in the process, but they’re both alright.” Roman replied, glancing up at Virgil and rolling his eyes. “You look ridiculous.” He grinned up at his boyfriend who couldn’t even stick his tongue out in response, instead choosing to scowl at the shorter boy.

“It’s not done yet idiot.” Virgil realised he looked quite idiotic, his hair was green with a temporary dye, his face and neck covered in white clown paint, and messy eyeliner drawn to add more depth once the eyeshadow went over it.  

Roman shrugged, turning back to his phone, but his facial expression changed, and he paused for a minute before groaning.

“What?”

“I'm not gonna be able to kiss you with that make-up on.”

“I mean you can, if you have a death-wish.” Virgil giggled, and Roman rolled his eyes. “C’mon this shit takes a lotta effort.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “I don’t have to wear any of that do I?”

“Nah, just some eyeshadow and lipstick.” The taller boy replied.

“What, like you do?” Roman asked. Virgil had gotten into the habit of wearing dark eyeshadow as of late, he thought it looked cool, and it covered the bags under his eyes from nightmares, Roman said it brought out the warmness in his eyes. Lipstick was a less common occurrence. He wore it sometimes just to piss off Roman because it always smeared when the prince kissed him.

Virgil gave a hum in response. “Heavier.” He muttered. He’d spent his weekends making Roman’s outfit, will a little help from Patton, who happened to be excellent at sewing. There weren’t many premade things for a Harley Quinn that wasn’t scandalous.

Well, Virgil's version wasn’t exactly the most PG either, the vest he made, not including buttons, so Roman would be forced to wear it open, his chest bare underneath, Virgil hadn't made a shirt. He blamed hormones for that idea, but went with it nonetheless. Roman didn’t seem to be complaining.

Virgil had a coat as a part of his costume anyway, he could always give it to the shorter boy if he got cold.

Once he’d finished the rest of his own make up, he got Roman to sit in his chair, he supposed he’d have to do it standing up.

Roman was surprisingly less fussy than the emo anticipated. The only issue was his hands. He’d always been fidgety, tapping pens, drumming his fingers or tracing patterns into Virgil’s skin when they held hands, or cuddled.

Usually he didn’t mind, he found it soothing, but this was different. Roman’s face was at his stomach, due to the chair, Virgil was regretting not going to get another chair, or sitting them both on the floor.

Because it was increasingly difficult for Virgil to focus with Roman outlining shapes into his waist, dangerously close to his waistband.

Fuck he hated being a teenager.

“Ro? Do me a favour?”

“Hm?” Roman asked, his eyes closed as Virgil smudged eyeshadow below his brow.

“Clasp your hands in your lap.” He ordered, lifting the brush away from his face for a second so he could readjust himself

“Oh- uh- right sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, its fine, it’s just uh…” He didn’t know how to phrase it, without it being embarrassing or weird, he could feel his face heating up as Roman looked up at him expectantly. “Y’know, teenage hormones and stuff.” He muttered, pushing Roman’s face to the side, deciding to do the edges of the black-eye, just so he didn’t have to make direct eye contact.

“Oh… _Oh_.” Roman grinned, but retracted his hands anyway, he might mock Virgil from time to time, but he’d never intentionally make the emo uncomfortable. “I mean you coulda’ just told me it turns you on.”

Virgil nearly choked at the words that just left Roman’s mouth, thankful for the white paint on his face, because otherwise it would be obvious that he was as red as a tomato. “I’m not… I’m not that comfortable yet, I dunno, I just- It’s weird, I’m sorry.” He went to continue with the makeup, but Roman grabbed his wrist gently, turning his head to he was looking up at Virgil properly.

“Storm-cloud, I don’t mind. We go at whatever pace suits both of us. I'm not gonna force you into anything alright? Just making a point.”

If he could have, he would’ve kissed Roman there and then. He couldn’t so instead, he just smiled softly, shaking his head.

“For the record, it’s very difficult to take you seriously when you look like a comic book serial killer.” Roman replied, and Virgil rolled his eyes, continuing with the task.

“I might do more than look like one if you don’t stay still.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Roman held the hammer over his shoulder. That was the part that he contributed to the most, though he did help with the pants and the boots. He took a metal piping tube, painting it, and made a cardboard mallet end. It took him about a week to make, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of it.

Half of his hair was sprayed red, he quite liked it. If he could convince his Grandpa maybe he’d dye it for real.

“You guys look awesome!” Patton squealed. He had the cap with the fake red feather in it on his head, the leaf adorned tunic pinched at his waist by a massive leather belt, that wrapped around his waist twice. He wore knee high boots and knee length shorts.

He looked odd without his glasses, but he was wearing contacts, so he could see, Logan likewise.

The teacher wore a bright red justaucorps coat, the ridiculous feathered hat matching.

Patton pulled out his phone, insisting on taking a photo.

Virgil stood beside Roman, one arm around the shorter boy’s waist, the fake Glock 17 with the bright red _bang_ flag sticking out of it comically, in his other hand. They took a serious photo, both of them stone faced. Then Patton insisted on a light hearted, goofy photo, so Virgil crossed his eyes, sticking his tongue out as Roman kissed his cheek.

“That’s a pleasant image.” Logan commented. “Right, I think it’s about time we get going, they’ll be waiting for us.”

“Ah fuck, I got lipstick on your cheek.” Roman spoke, shooting Patton an apologetic look for the swearing.

“It looks well actually.” Logan spoke. “The facial scars are quite believable Virgil, well done.” He added, smiling proudly at his son’s handiwork.

The streets were lined with giggling children, and exhausted parents, dressed up as princesses and ghosts and vampires.

The atmosphere made Virgil feel giddy.

“Holy shit, you guys look awesome!” Talyn cried, staring at Virgil and Roman as they stood at their apartment door. “Come in! Come in, we _have_ to show Joan, they’re gonna freak.”

They were dressed as Morticia Addams, Joan was dressed as Gomez to match them.

“Oh, _my_ god.” Joan looked astonished, looking genuinely impressed. “You guys look badass.” He gestured with his cigar, and Virgil smiled.

“Thanks.” Roman replied. “This dork worked hard for it.” He nudged Virgil, who pointed the fake gun at him. “Oh, lighten up, Mr J.” He responded, with an exaggerated pantomime, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Alright, I gotta go be a good host, you guys have fun! They’re playing cards against humanity in a bit if you wanna join.” Joan nodded at them. “Soda’s over there.”

Virgil, put the gun into his blazer pocket. “I’ll get you a drink, coke alright?”

“Yeah.”  

The air of the room made him feel nervous, but not in a bad way. He had five people he could talk to if he got overwhelmed, but he doubted that would happen.

The music cycled through 2000s emo music and stereotypical Halloween songs

For once the stares that were on him were ones of a positive light, and he smiled to himself, pouring him and Roman some soda into the clear plastic cups.

Roman was talking to somebody when he walked back over. The stranger looked somewhat like an older version of Virgil. It was strange.

The stranger was dressed in a waist coat and a white dress shirt, simple black skeletal lines drawn from his mouth. It was simple but effective.

“Here he is now. Virgil this is Thomas, he wanted to know how you did my makeup.” Roman replied, taking the cup off his boyfriend with a smile of thanks.

Thomas? That was a name he hadn’t heard for a while.

Seemingly Thomas looked just as astonished as he did. He wondered for a second but shook it off as coincidence. Virgil was an unusual name; a lot of people were shocked by it. “Uh yeah, it’s pretty freakin’ cool dude, yours as well.” Thomas spoke.

“Thank Talyn for that, they got me into it.“ Virgil shrugged. “Its nothing special, just a lot of black eye-shadow, mine took silicon and rigid collodion.” He studied Thomas as he spoke, the older man’s likeness to the Thomas he knew before seemed to click in his head as he traced the face behind the makeup, he was almost sure it was too coincidental to be true.

“Yeah, and he won’t let me kiss him in case I ruin it.” Roman complained, and Thomas breathed a laugh, taking a sip of his own drink, that laugh ringed a few bells in Virgil’s head.

Virgil rolled his eyes, always the drama queen. “Beauty is pain, babe. They’re starting cards against humanity, save me a seat will you?” The emo asked, and Roman nodded, taking his drink and his hammer toward the table a few were sat around.

Thomas shoved his hands into his pants pockets, leaning back on the balls of his feet. “Virgil huh?”

“Did you know a Virgil? I don’t think I’ve ever met another one.” Virgil replied, he gave an awkward shrug. He didn’t know his Thomas that well, he was always out, and not a wonder why, he avoided the abuse for the most part.

The man in front of him nodded. “Yeah for a little bit. I wasn’t great to him though.”

Judging by his adverse reaction to Virgil’s presence, he decided to go for a shot in the dark, a guess. “Funnily enough, I knew a Thomas. You’re twenty-five now, how the time flies, huh?”

Thomas sighed, his shoulders raised. “Yeah. I came to town for questioning by the police, about you, about us.”

“What’d you tell ‘em?”

“The truth. They were awful to you, I should’ve been there more, really I should have.”

“Its fine Thomas, its over now anyway, there’s no use worrying about it. I’ve been away from them over a year now.” He smiled, glancing over toward his parents, who were involved in a conversation.

“Who are you with then?” Thomas asked.

“Papa and Dad are over there.” He gestured to where Patton was talking to Joan, and Logan was watching him contently, a soft smile on his face as he did so. “Peter Pan and Captain Hook.” He added, to make it clear.

“ _Oh_. That’s awesome. I’m happy for you.”

“How do you know Talyn and Joan?”

“I met Joan years ago in theatre. When I was in town we went to catch up, they dropped me a text asking me to come, so I did.” Virgil nodded. “Hey, uh, your boyfriend is looking at you, I don’t wanna keep you from him.” Thomas offered him a wink, taking a sip of the drink in his hand.

“Alright... Thomas?” The older man looked at him expectantly. “Thanks. For stepping forward, I was scared they’d get away with it.”

“See you around?”

“Who knows?”

Virgil sat down beside Roman, who leant against him gently. The game had already begun, so Virgil sort of shared Roman’s hand, telling him which things would be the crudest if he couldn’t initially get it himself.

They actually ended up doing pretty well in the game, second only to a guy dressed, ironically, in a shitty batman costume, though Virgil was almost certain that was the point.

After enough rounds, the number of people playing diminished, and eventually they were forced to find somewhere more comfortable to sit. They ended up having to share an armchair, as the night drew on and more people got tired of standing. Virgil sat in the chair normally, whilst Roman sat sideways, his legs falling over the arm of the chair, the hammer leant against it.

“Hey, kiddo’s how’s it going?” Patton asked, as he and Logan approached the two. “Talyn’s ordering in food now, pizza alright for you two?”

Virgil shot him a thumbs up, and Roman gave a nod, and with a smile he went off in search of Talyn.

Logan had taken the hook off his hand and left it god knows where. “Virgil, I thought I should ask, would you mind if I had a drink? Joan’s complaining that they have nobody to take shots with, usually I’m the one who does.” His face seemed to be filled with genuine concern and Virgil shot him a confused glance.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t mind.” He replied simply.

Logan nodded, Virgil could’ve sworn he raised his hand to adjust the glasses he wasn’t wearing, instead playing it off as fixing his hat. “I was just unsure. Seeing a parental figure drunk again may trigger something, I just wanted to check.”

“Go for it, Papa. Enjoy yourself. Just be reasonable.” Virgil appreciated the concern, it was nice to be asked if he was okay, even if he didn’t understand at first.

“You mean I have to shut down the one sitting whiskey bottle?” Logan asked, in mock offense, placing his hand over his chest.

“Get outa here!” Virgil laughed, pointing his fake gun at the teacher, who drew his plastic cutlass in return, a grin on his face.

“Two against one Logo.” Roman interjected, lifting the hammer of the floor.

Grinning at the two boys, Logan slid the sword back through the belt loop, raising his hands in mock surrender, before making his way back over to Joan.

Roman had now decided to rest his head on Virgil's shoulder, his face against the crook of Virgil's neck. “I’m tired.” He complained, his tone like that of a child.

Virgil smirked slightly, checking the time on his phone, it was quite late, past midnight. He supposed the games they played, and fits of laughter that were shared with the group lasted longer than they seemed to. “We’re probably gonna get pizza and then go home, cool the jets, Princey.”

“I’m cold.” The same tone.

“How? You’re in a room full of people, were you never taught thermodynamics?”

“ _Somebody_ made me go shirtless.”

Rolling his eyes, and sighing, Virgil pulled off the purple blazer, leaving him in the horrendously green waistcoat. He handed the overcoat to Roman, who grinned at him, pulling it on over the vest.

“I now realise why I don’t go to parties.” The prince stated, rubbing small circles into the back of Virgil’s hand.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m an oversized five-year-old, and I need sleep.”

Virgil laughed, running a gentle hand through Roman’s hair. “That’s called social fatigue.”

“Whatever it is-“ He yawned, his breath hot on Virgil’s neck. “I need a nap.”

“I will shove that hammer up your ass if you fall asleep on me.”

“I’d make a dirty comment, but I’m too drained to even think of one.”

“Good.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sksksk this is a bad chapter im sorry. school is a bad time atm and im constantly drained ngl
> 
> just deal with it, the next one will be better I swear. 
> 
> I'm really sorry, I just need this shitty filler chapter to progress the story. 
> 
> Also. I have a very big misuse of religion in this chapter. I have some pretty awesome Christian friends, who are completely accepting, so I'm super aware that not all religious people are the way I've presented. I don't mean to cause offence, and I'm not against religion in the slightest. So like, chill. 
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is a fucking mess oh goddddd

Roman held Virgil’s hand in his, it was early December, they were walking down the brisk streets of Lewisburg to a café for a small date.

“Dad took me to this place when we first met.” Virgil spoke, his voice was soft, low pitched, it had deepened recently and Roman adored it. “I haven’t been here since. I miss it though. Sorry if it’s weird I just thought it’d be nice.”

Roman smiled softly. “It’s fine, Virge.”

They sat at a table, side by side, their hands intertwined in between them. Virgil had a book resting on the table, holding the pages down with his free hand as his eyes scanned over the words. Roman was on his phone, flicking through tumblr, tapping like on various artworks.

Occasionally they stole a glance at one another, their faces going up in flames the few times they caught each other in the act.

Roman studied Virgil’s face as he read his book, immersed in the story, practically drinking in the words as his eyes flicked over the pages rapidly. His freckles were left uncovered today, and Roman traced his eyes over them. He was gorgeous all the time but catching him focused was a different thing altogether.

Virgil smiled at the soft laughs that fell from Roman’s lips as he looked through his phone, the state of calmness unlike the solemn Virgil had caught him in before, he was happier like this. His stomach flipped as the shorter boy’s eyes crinkled, and he couldn’t help but feel special every time Roman tapped him to catch his attention and show him something.

“Excuse me? This is a public space with children. Could you limit your PDA?” A voice came from in front of them, breaking their peace.

Virgil glanced up, his face contorting in discomfort at the tone of her voice. On the surface it seemed nice enough, but there was poison laced under it. Virgil knew that tone, the sickly sweet, so exaggerated that it somehow tipped the scale and feel through the other side.

She was a middle-aged lady, she had black hair in a bob cut, and wore a noticeably wrinkled blouse and a pencil skirt.

Virgil went to drop Roman’s hand, but the Prince shook his head subtly, squeezing it. _Don’t even think about it._

“Ma’am we’re holding hands, its hardly a display.” Roman replied before he could open his mouth. As the woman went to reply he noticed another couple across the shop, a girl with her mouth against her boyfriend’s neck as he laughed. They were a cute couple, but considerably more explicit than him and Roman.

He furrowed his brow and turned his mouth before she could begin her sentence. “There’s a couple over there making out. We’re holding hands, its hardly gonna scar the children.” He gestured to the couple, but she ignored his point, and instead chose to glare at him.

“Oh.” Roman spoke. Virgil gave him a look of confusion. “ _Oh_ , I get it.”

Virgil nudged him to get his attention. “Get what?”

“She’s a homophobe, Virge.” The prince replied bluntly.

Virgil had never felt this before. He knew the term. He knew for a fact if any of his foster siblings had had the nerve to tell either of their _parents_ that they liked anything other than the opposite sex, there would’ve been a throw down, worse than anything they had ever actually done to him.

But both Patton and Logan had been wonderfully accepting, they treated his coming out like he was talking about the price of milk. Thomas too, in the only time he’d seen him again, he hadn’t mentioned it like it was unusual.

So, having this happen to him? It was unexpected.

“What? Why?” Virgil asked, only realising how stupid it sounded when he turned his head to the woman to see her reaction.

“Pardon?” The woman laughed, in shock almost.

“You heard him, why are you a homophobe?” Roman pushed the question, a look of curiosity had bloomed on his features and Virgil stared at him, confused as to where he was going with it.

The woman folded her arms, giving the two a ghastly look of putridity. “Well it- it’s against nature.” Her tone was incredulous, she wasn’t going to be convinced easily, if at all.

Roman laughed. “Not in the slightest. The worlds oldest tortoise _has_ a boyfriend, and there have been documented accounts of male-on-male octopus mating. It’s not a human thing. And if you argue that it’s a choice, then, clearly so is being straight.”

“Well, it’s against god!” She spoke like it was obvious, her voice rising in volume.

Virgil was the first to cut in to the conversation. “Yes, so god’s precious little animals are wilfully disobeying him?” He had a brilliant smile of genius drawn on his face, and if it weren’t for the circumstances Roman would have kissed him then and there. “And if we’re going on sins, then you are guiltier than either of us. You wedding ring is gone, you’ve just come back from taking off makeup, presumably because your husband doesn’t like it, but your adulterer friend does. Disloyalty after ten years, strange. Your skirt is made of mixed fabric, and your bob cut, it’s a _cut_. I would go as far to say that whatever tiny awful mixed-breed dog you own, is a sin as well.” It wasn’t that he wasn’t religious. He wasn’t. But he wasn’t against it, until it was being used against him unfairly.

The woman stuttered over herself. Virgil felt his face flush red, realising he’d run his mouth.

“Look, ma’am. We don’t want any trouble. We’re on a date, innocent enough, and if this isn’t something you’d do to a heterosexual couple, it shouldn’t be something you do to us. We’re human, and we love each other. Who are you to deny us that?” Roman replied calmly, in an attempt to limit how much she could embarrass herself, now she’d attracted attention.

She walked off with a huff, and almost as a _fuck you_ Virgil pulled Roman against him by the collar, crashing their mouths together.

Roman’s face was flushed when he pulled away. “How’d you know she was cheating?”

“Her ring, it wasn’t there but the indent was.” Virgil replied with a grin, as he leaned against Roman, focusing on his book once more.

“And ten years?” The prince asked.

Virgil shrugged, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “Mostly a guess. _Mostly_. Dad's finger doesn’t have an indent when he takes his ring off.”

Roman look horrified, the taller boy could’ve laughed there and then. “He takes his ring off? What for?” He asked.

“To do the dishes, you wang.” Virgil giggled, resting his head against Roman’s own.

Roman rolled his eyes, a gentle smile on her face. “Did you just call me a wang?”

“Last time I checked you weren’t deaf, what happened?”

“You’re the worst.” Roman replied, burying his head into Virgil's shoulder, his soft laughter warm against the taller boy’s neck.

“You’re wonderful.” Virgil giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Wonderful indeed.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Virgil sat in the backseat of the car, much to Patton's annoyance, he was lounging, his back against the door, and his legs spanning all three of the seats.

The older man had told him countless times, that he didn’t like it, that it wasn’t safe, that he’d prefer Virgil didn’t.

Virgil knew the man would never yell at him, would never truly reprimand him for it, so he did it anyway.

He was annoyed, that frustrating teenage annoyance, because he knew exactly what was happening, but he didn’t want to stop it. It seemed to be a never-ending cycle of teenage angst. He was angry for no reason, snapping back at his parents, lashing sarcasm at them anytime they spoke to him.

Somehow Patton didn’t seem to be annoyed by it, Virgil suspected he was though, underneath that calm exterior was irritation. Logan snapped back at him though, telling him to act his age and stop throwing a tantrum. Apparently his disrespect of Patton was what got through to Logan more than anything. Virgil felt the urge to test it and see if it worked the other way around. His dad and nudged Logan with his elbow, hissing at him for being mean. Virgil didn’t mind though, he knew he deserved the retort, he just felt oddly destructive, and that feeling was what was driving him insane.

It wasn’t even that sitting like that was more comfortable. He just wanted to act out against him, and he couldn’t work out why.

Carbon sat on her bed in the footwell, her head up and resting on Virgil’s shins.

They were driving up to Patton’s parents house. For Christmas number two with Virgil.

“So, kiddo, how’s Roman?” Patton asked from the front seat, and Virgil shrugged in response.

“Fine. Says he’s bored though.” The teenager replied, not even glancing up at his dad. “Christmas without him is gonna be boring.” He muttered to himself, just loud enough that he knew Patton would hear it.

“Is that why you’re annoyed today?” Logan asked. His tone wasn’t mean, but Virgil somehow located a bitter underbite to his words and rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“ _No_.” Yes.

Yes, that was exactly why. But he’d never in a lifetime admit it to either of the two men.

There was silence in the car for a little while after that, some AC/DC spilling from the speakers to liven the mood.

Suddenly Virgil’s phone went off in his pocket, he grabbed it to see Roman’s contact name; _Prince of Hearts_. A soft smile came to his face, as he tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

“Virgil Heart.” His tone was stern, mechanical over the phone speaker.

Virgil smiled, softly, just enjoying the sound of his voice. “Roman Prince.” He replied, equally as stern, but a giggle hid itself in his throat.

Roman sighed softly. “Why are you being an ass today? What’s got you worked up?” He asked, and Virgil immediately tensed, feeling accused.

“Who told you?” He asked, demanded rather, knowing for a fact it was either Patton, Joan or Talyn. Logan was ruled out because he was driving.

“Not important, answer my question, baby.” Romans voice was soft, warm, inviting, and Virgil could’ve cried there and then. He hadn’t seen Roman in forever.

It’s been over a week. It would be two by the next time he could see him.

“It’s not on _purpose_. I mi- I don’t know.” Virgil stammered, in an attempt to cover it up, a soft laugh from Roman’s end told him he’d failed.

“Do you miss me?” Virgil could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke the words. Roman adored being needed, _wanted_. It wasn’t an ego thing, if anything Roman’s ego was a mask, it helped him to know Virgil relied on him.

“Maybe.” Virgil muttered. He tried to ignore the glance Patton shot him from the front seat.

“I miss you too babe, but it’s only a week.”

“It’s already been a week.” Virgil grumbled, feeling like a child being told off. He was surprised he hadn’t started pouting yet.

Roman breathed out a chuckle. “I’ll text you the whole time if you need me to. But your parents just want you to be having fun okay? Being mean to ‘em isn’t gonna make them bow down to your every request, its gonna make them annoyed with you.”

“I know but-“

“ _But_ nothing. Its Christmas, Storm-cloud, smile about it. You’ll be home before you know it. And we’ll have a week to do whatever we want. No doubt Grammy’ll be sick of me, she’ll want me outa the house as soon as possible.” He laughed softly, Virgil wished he could hold his hand, instead choosing to clench it into a fist. “So be pleasant.”

He sighed, knowing he really should. “Fine.”

“I love you.” Roman spoke, his tone melodious, his voice music to Virgil’s ears.

The taller boy smiled, his shoulders relaxing as he leant against the door of the car. “Likewise.”

“No, you have to say it back.”

Virgil groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I _can’t_ , there’s people here.” He whined, pulling his knees to his chest in an attempt to hide his blush as Patton gave him a knowing look from the front seat.

“Well then I guess nobody loves me, I may as well not exist.” Roman’s tone was airy. He knew exactly what it would do to Virgil, and he was right.

Virgil sighed. “I love you.” He murmured quietly, and he winced as Roman laughed.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asked.

The taller boy knew fine rightly that he heard, he just wanted Virgil to be embarrassed and the worst part of it all was that it was working. “I love you, asshat.” Virgil swore at him.

“That’s my boy.” The smile in his voice was evident and Virgil couldn’t help but reciprocate it.

Patton was smiling when he put his phone down. “My baby’s in _love_.” He sang, and Virgil rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless.

“I do have to say that is quite sweet.” Logan replied with a smirk.

“Shut up, it was peer pressure.” Virgil replied, but he could admit that he did feel better.

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the journey was fine, Virgil talked more to Logan and Patton, which they seemed pleased about.

When they got there, Virgil didn’t even unpack. He greeted Peter and Jane with a hug, before heading up to the attic room and crashing asleep.

Christmas this time around felt nicer somehow. He felt more included in the festivities. It was nice to feel like he belonged. Like he was part of the family, they valued him, just like any of the others.  

Last year he’d been thrown into the mix in a fit of haste, nobody knew about him, and they were all forced to adjust to him.

This time he was wanted there.

That made him happy.

His grandparents knew he was coming this time, and they were prepared for him as well as everyone else’s. The attic room was ready for him before they arrived.

They all helped decorate the tree, Patton was appalled that his parents had waited so long to put it up. It took a lot of playful arguing and ended up with Patton tackling Valerie to the floor, with Eric and Logan yelling encouragement to their partners. Virgil filmed it for blackmail (and potentially to play at the wedding), while he and his grandparents watched in confusion.

The couples had a war of making gingerbread houses, Virgil was the judge, declared Valerie and Eric the winners, much to Logan’s chagrin, and Jane’s irritation.

They ended up watching movies before people decided to head to bed, considering that it was Christmas the next day. Virgil sat on the floor, well, more so laid, his limbs splayed out over the rug, carbon flopped on his chest.

He was even given a stocking hanging off the shelf, alongside everyone else’s.

He’d apologised that morning for his behaviour in the car. And with that, the woes of the early morning drive and disobedience yesterday, were cleared from his mind, and he flopped into the bed of the attic room with his phone in hand. There was a notification glowing brightly with Roman's contact name.

_Feeling any better?_

**Yeah, thanks, wbu?**

_Yep. Now I'm talking to you…_

That was strange, the ellipses caught him off guard, Roman never usually did that. He didn’t know the ins and outs of texting etiquette, but he could guess that it meant something was wrong.

**You okay? Can I call you?**

_Sure._

“Princey?” He asked.

“Storm-cloud.” Roman’s voice was shaky, like it was when he was scared, Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.  

“You sound panicked, are you okay?” He asked.

Roman laughed nervously. “I uh, I'm currently hiding in my closet.”

“Psst, babe, you’re gay as fuck, get out of there.” Virgil grinned, hearing Roman breathe out a laugh, he was trying his best to distract him.

“I do realise. I'm hiding from my family.”

“Why?”

The Prince sighed, and Virgil drew his knees up to his chest. “I don’t know. I mean- my cousins are overbearing and annoying. But everyone else is- _worse_ somehow. They keep asking me about my parents, and I don’t know what to do, or what to tell them, or how they’ll react, or-“

Virgil cut him off before the Prince began hyperventilating. “Whoah. Babe, breathe for a second, listen to my voice, okay? You aren’t obligated to tell them anything. Its your own business and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s up to you and you alone. If they press on, then tell them that they are cordially invited to go fuck themselves or your kickass boyfriend will come to kick ass.” Roman giggled at the absurdity. “I mean maybe not those words _exactly_ , but it’s a sensitive topic, y’know? They need to recognise that.”

“I just- They’ve done it before but this time its worse. It’s like- I dunno- they expect me to _know_. I was three years old Virgil, what _would_ I know?” He was clearly frustrated by the issue, his voice was shaking, he sounded on the verge of tears. It could’ve been solved so much more easily if Virgil was there to put his arms around the shorter boy and whisper into his hair, calming his shaking, trying to make him feel safe.

“Nothing. And that’s okay.” Virgil replied, trying to keep his voice calm.

Roman sniffed, and the taller boy felt his heart twist as he realised the Prince was crying. “How are things on your end?”

“Seemingly better than they were earlier. I still miss you though.”

“Talk to me about your day. So, I can stop freaking out long enough to get out of my closet.” Roman laughed but it was weak.

“It took forever for us to get here. You know how far away it is, I couldn’t even get to sleep. We got here fine though, perfectly alive and fully functioning.” Virgil heard Roman laugh and he smiled to himself from the other end of the line. “We had a gingerbread competition, like y’know those kits you have to assemble into a house? I judged and ate too much icing. Dad and Papa are annoyed I didn’t pick them.”

“You betrayed your parents? Blasphemy!” Roman replied, joining in on the theatrics, coming back to himself a bit, his voice stronger. “Who _did_ win?”

“Valerie and Eric. I mean, Eric put in brick work with liquorice, and Valerie made roof tiling out of smarties. I'm a sucker for intricacy. Logan’s work was impressive, and Patton’s piping was great but I'm telling you, it wasn’t great enough, lacked creativity.” The emo forced a high-class accent into his voice.

“A harsh critic. What about your grandparents?”

“Their house stayed up for about five seconds, and that was with support from wooden skewers.”

Roman laughed properly this time, loud and hearty and Virgil grinned to himself, knowing he was the cause of it.

“Who knew talking about Gingerbread houses would be the thing that eases a panic attack?” Virgil knew it was more than the subject matter but Roman chuckled at the joke.

“Clearly you did.” He replied. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Virgil could hear voices in the background, the muffled sound of somebody calling Roman’s name and he heard Roman take in a sharp breath. “Have I ever told you-“

“Stop avoiding your cousins. I’ll text you tomorrow.” Virgil cut him off before he could open a knew topic.

He sighed. “Goodnight, Virgil.”

Virgil smiled softly. “I love you.”

“Likewise.” There was a grin in his voice and he hung up before Virgil could protest against him.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY  
> GUESS WHOS BACK  
> IT ME
> 
> no trigger warnings to my knowledge.  
> Im a lot happier with this chapter than the last one, but im real excited for the next chapter.  
> ENJOY

Virgil was laying flopped on his back, scrolling through a book he’d found, on his phone.

He never really had the opportunity to read as a kid. His infatuation with books now he had the chance to read them, was the result. Logan appreciated it more than anyone, constantly giving recommendations, excitedly listening to Virgil’s opinions on them.

Virgil found his excitement amusing, Logan told him it was because he just wanted his son to like what he did.

The shelves in the office were slowly being filled with more of Logan’s childhood, and Virgil’s newfound favourites. From mythological fiction, to sci-fi, to fantasy, to fact, Virgil found himself losing himself for hours on end in the study.

He was trying to convince Logan to allow a bean-bag in the study, because the office chair hurt his ass after a while.

He was becoming slowly less cautious, a lot quicker witted and amiable. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

There was still that voice in the back of his head that told him if he became too attached he would only get hurt again. But that voice was slowly being drowned out by the certainty that Patton could never hurt another human being, least of all him. The certainty that Logan wouldn’t even bother with him if he didn’t care.

Yet somehow not being anxious about it was the thing making him anxious.

Patton had said it was because he was finally allowed to be a kid. The older man explained it was probably because he’d been forced into the role of an adult, a protector, at a younger age than he should’ve been. Now he was permitted to laugh and joke, and cry and panic. He was given the freedom to run and jump.

Freedom he’d never had before. And that’s what was happening, he was _being_ a teenager.

“Virgil!” Logan called outside his door. “Office, now!” He ordered, and Virgil groaned, pushing himself up off the floor and walking to the study.

“What’s up?” He asked, walking through the door of the study, he was standing front and centre, his hands clasped behind his back. Logan gave him an odd look, noticing his stance, and he realised, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets and relaxing his shoulders.

He had his hands clasped in front of his mouth and lowered them as he spoke. “You know that your dad and I are working on wedding plans. So, we have to discuss your part in it. Will you be my best man?”

Virgil nearly choked.

“What? You want me to be the- the best man? That’s a big deal, are you sure?” Virgil asked, furrowing his brow.

Oh god this was a big deal.

“Considering I'm an only child, my co-workers aren’t the fondest of me, and my best friend, that isn’t you or Patton, is neither male nor female. You are the best option.” Logan asked, the ghost of a smirk on his features, amused by Virgil’s reaction. He wasn’t going to force the kid to do it if he really didn’t want to.

Virgil frowned. “What about Eric?”

“We may be close, but I like you more.” Logan replied, laughing lightly.  

“I'm flattered.” The teenager rolled his eyes.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Sure.”

Logan smiled, genuinely, before scanning through a notepad he had on the desk. “Patton also suggested ring-bearer, though that isn’t set in stone. Valerie is the maid of honour, you will be forced to dance with her, due to tradition.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You’ll also have a dance with Roman, don’t worry.” Virgil rolled his eyes, secretly he was quite pleased. Though, knowing Logan, it probably wasn’t a secret. “Oh, and Patton’s cousins should be round today to discuss dresses. Otherwise, that’s it. I'm sure you’re aware the best man usually gives a speech about the groom at the reception.” He replied, glancing back up at Virgil who looked confused.

“You’re _both_ the groom.”

“Patton declared himself the bride.”

“Of course he did.”

“You’re okay with the speech?”

“Yeah, so I have to talk about how great you are?” Virgil replied, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“You can if you wish, I wouldn’t be against you exhibiting my flaws. To my knowledge it’s usually done with anecdotes. Though, I wouldn’t feel obligated to stick to that tradition. And please, feel free to make fun of me, Joan will most certainly enjoy it.” Logan replied, smiling gently.

Virgil breathed a laugh, shaking his head. “Alright. If I have a panic attack giving it, what’s the backup plan?”

“You say something about an obsession with crofters and I’ll cut you off, so you can sit down.”

“Cool. Can I go now?”

“Yep.” Logan popped the p. “You want cheese pizza correct?”

“Always.”

It didn’t take long for the nerves to come creeping back, crawling up his back like some sort of infection. A sickness seemed to rise in his stomach.

He hadn’t felt like this in a while.

Sighing to himself, he flopped into his bed, his hood pulled up. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around himself, praying for the feeling to dissipate. He didn’t want to call Roman, bothering him wouldn’t be in his best interest.

But he didn’t get the time to let the panic seep into his skin.

“Kiddo!” Patton called from down the stairs. “Can you come down a sec?”

Sighing, he pulled his hood down as he stood up. His fists were clenched around the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn’t want to move, but Patton wanted him, so reluctantly he plodded down the stairs.

Valerie was sitting at the kitchen table, she didn’t look happy to be there, and there were three women he didn’t recognise sitting around the living room.

One of them was in Logan's chair, she had a black floral print dress on, her hair clearly had a lot of time put into it, delicate curls falling at her shoulders, she was clearly the youngest.

The second was at the end of the couch, her clothes definitely more casual, dress pants and converse shoes. She was wearing expensive looking earrings and her hair was simply tied back in a ponytail. Presumably she was the oldest.

The third was the only one to acknowledge Virgil, glancing up from her phone and smiling at him. She wore glasses and her face was scattered with freckles, she was the only one in jeans, and her t-shirt looked like something Virgil himself would wear.

“Virgil, these are my cousins, they’re gonna be the bridesmaids, well groomsmaids I suppose.” Patton spoke, a soft laugh escaping his lips, he was making coffee in the kitchen. “Fiona, Chelsea, Marie, this is Virgil, our son.”

“He looks quite old for his age huh, Pat?” One of them, Virgil assumed Chelsea, considering she was sat in the middle, she glanced over at Virgil, and the teenager felt like he was being examined.

Patton looked up, confused, and Valerie rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she glanced up at Virgil. “What?”

“I mean, you’re what? Twenty-five?” Okay, Virgil already didn’t like her, she appeared to have some sort of stuck-up air about her that made him uneasy.

“I'm twenty-nine, Chelse.”

“I'm fifteen.” Virgil piped up, just as confused as Patton.

Chelsea frowned, pushing her ponytail over her shoulder. “Okay _that_ doesn’t add up.” She replied, pointing a finger at Patton, as if he outright lied to her.

“What are you talking about?” Patton asked, laughing nervously, clearly unaware of whatever she was accusing him of, setting Valerie’s mug on the table in front of her, before handing the three of them their own coffee.

“How can he be your kid if he’s fifteen, its basic math Pat.” She scoffed, laughing as though she was smarter.

Valerie cut in before Patton could, slamming her mug down on the table, not even noticing when it spilled over the edge onto the surface. “You absolute idiots, he’s adopted!” She cried out.

“Jeez Val, who pissed in your cheerios?” The one in the armchair, Fiona, replied.

Valerie glared at her. “Sorry, Pat. I just- I gotta go.” She sighed, relaxing her posture and forcing a smile, before lifting her bag and leaving the door.

Patton ran to the door, before glancing back, and Virgil stared at him anxiously, not wanting to be left alone with these women he didn’t know. “Virge can you check she’s alright?” Patton asked, understanding his dilemma.

The teenager nodded, running out the door.

Valerie was in her car, her head resting against the steering wheel. Virgil walked round to the passenger door and got in quietly.

“Valerie, you okay?”

“Peachy.” She spoke through gritted teeth, lifting her head to stare out the windshield, not daring to make eye contact with the teenager. Virgil could see her eyes glossed over.

“Whats wrong?”

“Do you want to go for a drive?”

“Uh, sure.” He replied, her key turning in ignition indicating he didn’t really have a choice.

“Fantastic.”

There was silence for a while, just the hum of the car and the rain as it began to beat down, casting a gloomy grey sky over the world. Then Valerie let out an annoyed huff and slammed the heel of her palm on the car horn. Virgil flinched and tensed up at the sudden noise. Valerie offered him an apologetic look before sighing again.

“It makes me so god damn mad!” She cried out in frustration. Virgil realised she’d just been stewing in her own rage for the past ten minutes, finally it was getting too much. He was glad to listen. “Why does he let them do that to him!?” She asked, to nobody in particular but Virgil supposed he was to answer.

“Do what?” He asked gently.

“Didn’t you see it? How he lets them walk all over him and talk down to him like he’s a child. He’s the youngest out of us all, but he’s not nine years old anymore!” Virgil had never seen her this annoyed, and she’d had to cover his P.E class before. She was always able to keep a cool head, coping with rowdy teenagers in a calm manner, rarely raising her voice. “The man can own a business, marry a genius, adopt a kid, and they still condescend to him like he’s stupid!”

“Valerie, just breathe, he’s fine.”

“No, he’s not. I know he’s not. Tell you what? You know when Chelsea got married? Patton wasn’t even invited to the ceremony, god forbid made one of the groomsmen.” She glowered as they drove out of Lewisburg and into some empty country roads. “Her excuse? He was too immature, he’d ruin the ceremony. Bullshit. He was eighteen and was practically taking full-time care of Logan, and she had the damn audacity to call him immature. And you know what? He didn’t even bat an eye, didn’t say a word. He showed up at the reception with his gift that he worked his ass off to get them and sat at the table with us like it meant nothing.”

Virgil was struggling to word what he wanted to say. Patton was just _good_. He didn’t hold grudges or verbalise anger, but she knew all this, she knew it all before he did. “That’s just how he is Aunt Val. I’ve only seen him stand up for himself once, even then, he was standing up for me more than anything.”

“What?” She asked, and Virgil tensed again, he probably shouldn’t have said that. If Valerie got pissed at Logan, then what did that mean for the wedding?

“Uhm, I dunno if he’d want me telling you.” Valerie gave him a look and he sighed, knowing she’d pester him for it anyway. “This was a while ago, two years now I think. It was near Christmas, and Logan came home drunk off his face, and beat up. It was because of his parents. Patton threatened him then, told him he wouldn’t put up with it anymore, said he’d choose me over Logan if it came down to it. That’s the only time I’ve seen him like that.

Valerie shook her head, smiling. “He adores that man, there’s no way in hell he could lose him now. And Logan, god Logan’s grown up so much since he moved in with you two. I’d give you credit for that one though.” She laughed. “He’s like another brother, less annoying I suppose. Sure, he can be a dick, but we all knew that before, and he always feels guilty about it, even if he refuses to show it. You know mom and dad thought they were dating a decade ago?”

Virgil wasn’t surprised at that, when he’d first met Patton, he knew just from the way the man talked about Logan that something was up. “You’re welcome.”

“You got them together?” Virgil nodded, smirking. “How’d you do it?”

“Blackmail.”

“Of course.” She laughed. “So, how’s _your_ lover boy?”

“He has a name. He’s good, to my knowledge.”

“Is he your plus one?”

“He was given an invitation, I’ll have you know.” Virgil replied and Valerie raised a hand defensively.

“Fancy, fancy. You’re gonna have to dance with me, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, god help me- Hey!” He laughed as Valerie shoved him. “We should do a hip-hop routine, for shits and giggles.”

“If anything, that would make Patton happier. Watch your language.”

“Heck.” Virgil challenged, sticking his tongue out.

Valerie glared at him, it was fake. “You’re playing a dangerous fucking game.”

“Are you kidnapping me then?”

“We’re on route home. Well, _your_ home.”

“Cool.”

“Ice cold.”

 

****

* * *

 

 

 

Virgil sat upside down in the armchair of a hotel. It was the night before the wedding, Patton insisted on keeping a few things traditional, and so both grooms weren’t allowed to see each other until Patton was walked down the isle by his dad.

Valerie, much to her chagrin, was with Patton and their cousins.

Patton wasn’t wearing a dress by any stretch of the imagination, but considering the groomsmaids were his family, and weren’t too keen on Logan, he took the role of bride, metaphorically speaking.

Virgil, Joan and Talyn were with Logan.

Joan had volunteered to be the wedding officiant, and was no doubt going to crack a few jokes to ease the awkward tension at the beginning of the ceremony.

Talyn was there to make sure the three of them, Logan, Joan and Virgil, didn’t look like a massive train wreck. They were also the wedding photographer but making sure their boys and Joan looked presentable, was what they were more concerned about if they were honest.

And Virgil, he was there to do best man things, hype Logan up, make sure he got there on time, check that overall he looked presentable, and wasn’t going to be sick on his soon-to-be husband.

The stag night hadn’t been much, it was the four of them playing Mario party and Joan and Talyn’s house. Joan and Logan took some shots and went through a six-pack of beer between them. There was a lot of laughter and laid back playful arguing. Talyn won Mario Party, and they switched to Buzz!. By that point Logan was pissed enough that slow reflexes allowed Virgil to beat him, though he wasn’t too phased by his loss. After that, Virgil somehow managed to convince them to do some karaoke with guitar hero microphones, which he taped for the highlight reel that was going to be played at the reception.

It was fun.

But that premarital buzz had now dissipated into pre-marital panic.

Logan was pacing the hotel room, his socked feet making little to no sound on the carpeted floor.

Virgil groaned in frustration, deciding he was either going to be hypnotised or dizzied by Logan’s patrol of the room. “Papa, calm down, Dad’s been in love with you for as long as I’ve been alive, I don’t think even you throwing-up on the isle would put him off you.”

“Comforting, Virgil.” The teacher replied, offering a half-hearted scowl to the teenager, who poked out his tongue in response.

“I try my best.” Virgil spoke, allowing himself to slide off the chair and onto the floor.

“He’s right Logo. Knowing you, everything will go perfectly anyway. So just relax.” Joan replied, standing up to stop him from pacing. “We have everything covered. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll streak across the venue to distract everyone.” They joked, a grin lighting up their face as Logan rolled his eyes, allowing a soft smile to etch its way into his features.

Eventually Logan got bored of pacing and lay back on one of the beds in the room, rubbing his hands over his face with a sigh.

“Lo’, he could’ve said no. He said yes for a reason. Just chill.” Talyn offered him some comfort. “Kid, you wanna go hang with Roman? I'm gonna drag this dork on a walk before he explodes.” They asked, turning to the teenager.

Virgil nodded, taking a key card from the desk. Roman had a room with his grandparents, they’d all been invited, which Virgil was glad of, it meant he wouldn’t be alone or forced to socialise with distant family at the reception, knowing that Logan and Patton would be obligated to greet all their guests and take the congratulations from each of them.

Knocking on the door he stood, for some reason just as antsy as Logan, he could feel his shoulders tense but couldn’t find it in himself to relax them. The door opened to Roman, who simply stood aside and let him in.

“Grandparents are out to dinner, I didn’t wanna go.” He offered simply, shutting the door. He was wearing simple jeans and an oversized sweater. His posture seemed deflated and his tone wasn’t that of a happy one.

“Numb?” Virgil asked, glancing back at him, leaning against the small desk they had in the room.

Roman shrugged. “Sorta. How’s Logan coping?”

“Not very well. He was pacing, but Talyn and Joan have dragged him out on a walk to try and calm him down.”

“You nervous?” Roman asked, moving so he was standing in front of Virgil, looking up at his slightly.

“About what?”

“The speech.”

Virgil shrugged, realising that that’s what the nerves were coming from, that nudge in the back of his head that was screaming about it. “Oh yeah, incredibly so.”

“We all know you’re a cunning linguist, you’ll be fine.” The prince replied, taking Virgil’s hands, lacing their fingers together, not even flinching at the difference in temperature, Virgil’s hands freezing against his warm palms.

“I’ll get through it I'm sure. If I don’t, Joan promised to streak across the venue as a distraction.”

“I’ll be sure to shield my eyes.”

Virgil smiled softly, his hands finding the hem of Roman’s t-shirt, as he pressed his lips gently against Romans own. The prince’s hands found the back of his neck, as he pushed up to kiss Virgil back, and the taller boy felt his shoulders relax.

Roman pulled away quicker than Virgil would’ve liked, but he didn’t say anything as the shorter boy rested his head under Virgil’s neck, his arms wrapping around the taller boy’s waist as Virgil pulled him close. “Gonna have to limit the PDA Virge. Grandpa is still uneasy with it.”

“Yeah of course, Princey.” Virgil muttered, pressing a kiss to Roman’s hair. “I cant wait for this to be over. Everybody is anxious, they’re stealing my thing.”

“Oh, shut up.” Roman laughed against him.

“Gasp, betrayal.”

Roman smiled against his skin, his breath warm against Virgil's neck. “Of the highest calibre, Charlie-frown.”

“So, are we gonna stand here until your grandparents get back or?”

“What did you have in mind?” Roman asked, pulling away to look at the taller boy.

“You have a ton of bad movies on your laptop, we could make fun of them for a laugh.”

“A man after my own heart.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, grabbing the chain around his neck and pulling it out from under his t-shirt to wave in front of the shorter boy. “Idiot, I already have it.” 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FUN WEDDING TIME  
> YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH RESEARCH I DID ABOUT WEDDINGS  
> WHO NEEDS A BEST MAN BECAUSE I READ TOO MANY SPEECHES AND IM DOWN TO CLOWN
> 
> minor homophobia, nothing extreme because I wanted good vibrations. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Logan was ready to be sick.

He was lucky he’d caught the amount of sleep he had, with fleeting nightmares and feelings of falling.

He hadn’t slept so awfully since he was living at his old apartment.

His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t tie his tie, after the first few knots came out wrong, too tight, too loose, too wide, too narrow, he gave up with a frustrated huff and tossed the fabric over the chair, ready to give up, on life _and_ the tie.

Virgil, who’d just finished tying his, glanced over at Logan, who now had his hands under his glasses pressing into his eyes as if when he took them away, it would all disappear.

“Papa? You alright?” He asked, walking over. He placed a gentle hand on Logan’s back, and the teacher flinched away from his touch, so he retracted his hand carefully.

Logan sighed, not changing his posture. “Not particularly. Usually, this type of thing doesn’t affect me so much.” He replied, standing up and lifting his tie off the chair, and draping it round his neck, preparing to tie it again with trembling fingers.

“Here, let me.” Virgil ordered, taking the tie ends in his hands.

He learned how to tie a tie from Logan, and now that was paying off. Unbeknownst to either of the two, Talyn managed to snap a photo.

“You’re gonna be great Papa. Even if you aren’t, Patton is still gonna love you. It’s not something that disappears after a slip up in the vows or something else ridiculous that you’re worried about.” Virgil spoke softly, tightening the knot, and folding Logan’s collar down over it. “You just gotta give yourself a break. Now, get your blazer on, get in the car, and let’s get your smartass married.”

Getting to the venue felt unreal.

Their wedding venue, like everything else in their lives, had a blue theme, deep navy intertwined with cobalt.

Logan stood in his spot, just as they’d rehearsed, just as he played again and again in his head. He felt the nerves seeping in and he ran a hand through his hair as Patton's family, his friends and their mutual friends started to fill in the seats.

He gave a nervous wave to Patton’s mom, knowing that her arriving meant Patton was behind those doors, ready to walk up.

The bridesmaids stood opposite him, sending small waves to their family in the rows of seats. Valerie offered him a thumbs up, mouthing “good luck” with a smile. That should have calmed him down, but it didn’t.  

Any moment now, Patton would be walked down the aisle, the music would kick in and it would all begin, and despite the months of continuous planning, he still wasn’t ready. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, feeling sickness rise in his stomach, everyone was staring at him. He had to leave. Now.

He went to run off to one of the side exits, but a nimble hand caught his arm the moment he moved and he was spun around to see Joan looking unimpressed.

Their eyes were intense and piercing, he gripped Logan by the forearms, holding him in place. “Nuh-uh. Logan, this is gonna be the happiest day of your god damn mother fucking life. I did not get qualified to marry people, for your chicken-ass to flake on me.” They smiled, letting go of Logan’s arms, as the teacher had begun to calm down, and the idea of fleeing had dripped from his head. “You’re gonna stand there, you’re gonna woo the heck outa the man you love, and you’re gonna stick that ring on his finger, and bam, married, done. Because there is _definitely_ more than one person who’s waited years to see this happen, _finally_.”

“Let’s hope it’s that simple.” Logan spoke, swallowing thickly, as everybody began to hush now they’d all arrived.

The music changed, Good Vibrations by The Beach Boys was the song Patton had picked, given his love for sixties music.

Patton's Father held his son by the arm, as they walked down the aisle. Patton's dad, Peter, was smiling, muttering something Logan couldn’t make out to his son as they took slow steps. Patton waved gently at his relatives.

Surprisingly it was Logan who began to cry. He stood with his posture as pristine as can be, ignoring the impish grin from Valerie as she noticed the tears slip down his face, resisting the childlike urge to stick his tongue out at her in retort.

Before Patton stepped up to the altar, he turned around, kneeling down to hug the flower girls, his cousins’ daughters. He gave them a smile, before standing up again.

After the music stopped, and Patton was in front of him, this all began to feel very real.

And when Patton wiped the tears from his face, he remembered how to breathe again.

“You look stunning.” Logan said quietly, catching Patton’s hands with gentle fingertips, taking them in his own. He seemed to be unable to keep the thought in his head, Patton blushed like he was a teenager again, and Joan rolled their eyes, smiling nonetheless.  

They took a breath, tapping the mic before they spoke into it. “We are gathered here today. To celebrate the love between these two fine men you see before you. Logan Sanders, and Patton Heart. I would ask you to take each other’s hands but seemingly you two want to do my job for me.” Joan spoke, a grin on their face, and a hushed laughter came over the guests. “I am glad to be here, as I'm sure all of you are as well, to witness the evolution of their extraordinary amount of love for each other. Honestly it’s concerning. Now for the vows, self-written.”

Logan took a breath, he could feel the cards he had in his pocket, but he ignored them. He couldn’t use them, the speech he’d written didn’t sound genuine no matter how much he tried. So instead he was going to wing it, speak his mind, make his promises. “Patton. When you suggested that we write our own vows I was terrified. I spent hours going over them, rewriting them to hold any sort of meaning, and I have the note cards in my pocket but reading words of paper seems pointless. I'm not a cunning linguist, I can’t weave words into breath taking poetry like you do, but if I'm good at anything, it’s stating the facts. You saved my life Patton Heart, you taught me more than any book ever could, and you made me the man I am today. There aren’t words that can convey how much I adore you, your laugh, your voice, your eyes, all of it. All of you.

“If you take this ring, if you take my name, I promise to do the same. I promise to take care of you when you need it. I promise to hold you when you’re sad. I promise to calm you when you’re stressed. I promise to take off your glasses when you fall asleep with them on and I promise to untie the knots in your aprons that you can’t get out. But most importantly, I promise to love you. for as long as mortality allows.”

Patton laughed softly, tears falling down his face, he took his glasses off to wipe them away.

When he’d collected himself, he took a breath before speaking.

“Logan. I'm almost certain that the world gave me you, as a test of patience. When you’ve been in love with somebody, for as long as I have been, as long as I am still, you learn to be patient. There were days when I’d look at you, so concentrated on whatever work you were doing, and thinking to myself “This man is supposed to be a genius.” But it took you ten years to work out that I loved you back. When you kissed me for the first time, I thought I was dreaming. When you proposed, I felt like I was flying. And standing here, now, I'm on top of the world. You send me rocketing through space at a million miles an hour every time you tell me you love me. Because I know you mean it.

“If you take this ring, if you take my name, I promise to do the same. I promise to pick you up when you hit rock bottom, and send you soaring again. I promise to keep you afloat when it feels like anxiety is drowning you. I promise to make sure you know I care. I promise to drag you away from marking when you need to take a break. And I promise to love you, always.”

“The rings.” Joan spoke, their eyes glistening as their own tears threatened to spill. Virgil handed them the two boxes, open. “Logan, take this ring, put it on the ring finger of Patton’s left hand, and repeat after me.”

Logan followed their instruction, slipping the ring onto Patton's finger, with shaky hands. It was the same one he’d proposed with, but Patton didn’t want two rings, so he’d taken it off for the night.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Joan spoke.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Logan repeated, looking Patton in the eyes, their gorgeous golden brown, staring straight back at him.

“Patton, take this ring, put it on the ring finger of Logan’s left hand, and repeat after me.”

Patton's hands didn’t shake nearly as bad as Logan’s did.

Joan couldn’t keep the smile off their face. They’d been waiting for this day from the moment Logan introduced them to Patton. They dealt with every mental breakdown, every fall because Logan was more blind than his glasses implied. They couldn’t believe their boys were finally here. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

“I hereby pronounce you, Logan Sanders-Heart, and Patton Heart-Sanders, Husbands. You may now kiss your Groom.”

Patton was quick on the draw, pulling Logan into him by the tie, their lips connecting for their first kiss as a married couple.

It didn’t feel much different.

Just as electrifying as it always was.

He couldn’t help but smile against his husband as their family and friends clapped, cheers came from Patton's sister and a few of Logan’s colleagues, and Virgil's piercing wolf whistle came loud and clear.

They were married now, which still felt unbelievable to say, but now, now it was true.

The reception was a lot less nerve-wracking than the ceremony. Well, for Logan and Patton it was, Virgil was losing his mind.

He stood up, cue cards in his hand, that he held behind his back now the nerves were kicking in. A hush came over the room as people turned to him, making his way to the middle of the floor, cleared for the dances to take place after his speech.

Roman had given him a hand in the odd place, he was a lot more creative when it came to things like this. When it came to anything really. But majority of it was his own words, he knew it had to be, or else what did it mean?

He clutched the microphone in an iron grip, taking in a breath and forcing a smile. He could do this, for his Papa and his Dad. He could do it.

“Ladies, Lords, and Non-binary royalty, adults, children, and teenagers. On behalf of the groom and groom, thank you all so much for coming, though I don’t doubt the open bar had help in persuasion. I’d like to thank Joan, our dashing officiant and professional proud best friend. Talyn our dapper photographer and outfit fixer. Valerie, our stunning maid of honour. And the bridesmaids, they didn’t really do much, but you all look wonderful.” He cast a smile and a nod to the bridesmaids table, he still didn’t like them.

“So, for those who don’t know me, which now I'm looking, is probably quite a lot of you; I’m Virgil Heart-Sanders. The lucky son of these two amazing men. If you didn’t know they had a son, don’t worry most people don’t, this is the first time I’ve seen the light of day in weeks.” He mouthed ‘help me’, and to his delight people laughed at the joke. “All joking aside, that’s me, Virgil, the best man, the hype man, the psyche man, the tie man, and the man responsible for moral support, time keeping, and ensuring the embarrassment of the groom. I know what you’re thinking, ‘The best man talks about the groom, but they’re _both_ the groom, so who’s he going to talk about?’ Well, luckily for all of us, Patton declared himself the bride. So, Logan is the victim of my speech today.

“When Logan asked me to be his best man. I was surprised, I was scared, I was nervous. But I figured honesty is the best policy. So here we go. I met Logan just under two years ago, though it feels like he’s been a father to me for far longer. I first knew him from his books, yes he writes books, if you’re struggling to sleep I recommend them, first line and you’ll be out like a light.” Another joke landed, and a few laughs from the tables, as he paced the floor gently, making sure he glanced over all the tables, so everybody felt included. “In truth, I admired him. And then I met him for the first time.”

“And I realised that sometimes idols are assholes. He went from somebody I looked up to, to somebody I was afraid of. But now, now I know I can go to him about anything. I had the pleasure of watching him go through that journey, of watching him grow, even though I was the one getting taller. I watched him go from this ball of nerves and pent up anger, to a man with more power to do good than anyone I’d ever known.

“Truthfully my title is misplaced. The best man. I'm not the best man. I am the son, of the best man. The best man, the best teacher, the best motivator, the best calculator, the best Papa. My Papa. There is nobody else in the world, that I’d prefer to marry my Dad. There’s nobody else who deserves my Dad more than him, nobody who my Dad deserves more, nobody I trust more to take care of Patton, to take care of me.

“And maybe you’re looking at me like I'm crazy. Maybe you’re a colleague, or a distant friend, or an in-law. Maybe you aren’t that close, maybe you never tried to be, maybe you _are_ just here for the open bar. Maybe you’re thinking ‘this kid is insane, the guy’s a filing cabinet with a temper on a good day’ but that’s because you don’t know him like I do. I invite you to see that Logan today. To see the Logan that goes out of his way, no matter how far, to visit Patton at work, even just for a minute. To see the Logan that sits with me at the table, helping me with my homework, because he wants me to do well. To see the look of pride on his face when I finally get that equation, or when Patton creates something brilliant. To see how proud and loving he is of his family.

“I invite you to see him for how he is, a genius, a father, an amazing man. The best man. Logan Sanders-Heart.”

The hall was silent, and he felt his heart begin to race, had he done it wrong? Did he say something too much?

Valerie was the first to clap, and an applause began to rise. He felt the dread in his chest fizzle out, and a smile fell onto his lips and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Logan pulled him into a hug, hand on the back of Virgil's head as he held him close.

He’d done it right then. Thank god.

Then it was time for the dances, Patton danced with his father, Logan danced with Patton's mom, Virgil danced with Valerie.

Then it was time for the couples dance, and he got to see Roman for the first time that day, he’d been so busy dealing with Logan, and stressing out that he didn’t even wave to him as he stood on the altar with Logan.

“Your speech was amazing. I especially liked the intro.” Roman smiled, as Virgil led him in the simple waltz they’d been taught specifically for this moment. Virgil rolled his eyes, but he was smiling nonetheless. “You look amazing.”

“So, do you. Though I don’t think your granddad believes this relationship is anything but catastrophically romantic anymore.” He made a point of that fact, by gently squeezing Roman’s hip where his hand rested.

“I don’t care.” Roman replied, and Virgil giggled, tilting his head down to meet the prince’s lips, gentle against his own.

Then the festivities began, the cake was cut, food was served, and people were mingling round the hall trying to be sociable.

Virgil as the best man, had to be social and amiable, giving hellos, and shaking hands and shoving his anxiety back into his stomach every time somebody new came to greet him. Logan’s colleagues, his teachers, were a strange experience to meet. His English teacher gave him a clap on the back for his speech.

And then finally he was allowed to relax and enjoy himself.

Virgil was pouring him and Roman a drink when he felt a tug at the back flap of his blazer.

He turned to see the two flower girls, who were significantly shorter than him, so much so that they had to crane their necks up to catch a glimpse of his face. One was taller than the other though, she had blonde hair, whilst the shorter was a brunette.

They wore matching shoes and dresses and had their hair up in double braids. He had to admit that they were quite sweet together.

“You’re the best man aren’t you? You’re called Virgil aren’t you?” The taller one asked, and Virgil knelt so he could hear them properly.

“Yep, that’s me, what are your names?” He offered them a smile.

“I'm Georgia!” The smaller one spoke, her voice loud and proud, and she smiled back at him.

“I'm Stevie.” The taller one added.

“Nice to meet you, you both have very pretty names. How can I help you?”

“Why were you kissing that boy?” Stevie asked, she was playing with a bracelet on her wrist. “We saw you!” She giggled like it was something scandalous that they caught them.  

Virgil rolled his eyes, laughing softly. “Oh, that’s my boyfriend. His name is Roman, he’s a prince you know.” He replied, watching as their faces lit up in disbelief.

“He isn’t!”

“Yeah he is! And you know what? I’ll tell you a secret.” He replied, keeping his face deadly serious, gesturing for them to come closer

“What?” Georgia whispered.

“Because he’s my boyfriend, that makes me a prince too.” He replied, watching in amusement as they grinned at him.

“Where’s your crowns then? Aren’t princes supposed to have crowns?” Georgia asked, folding her arms, now looking sceptical.

“Its rude to wear a crown to somebody else’s wedding you know.”

Georgia looked at her shoes. “Mommy says that two boys kissing is gross, but I'm not supposed to tell anyone that.”

Virgil’s heart fell to the floor and smashed into a thousand pieces. And he had the impending sense of dread as this nagging voice in the back of his head told him exactly who their mother is.

“What’s your mom’s name?” He asked, forcing a smile.

“Daddy calls her Chelse.”

The voice of dread was all too correct. _Then_ he got a brilliant idea.

“Okay, tell you what? I want you to go to your mom, and I want you to tell her ‘Prince Virgil says maybe she’d understand love if she got her head out of her ass.’”

They giggled, and Stevie pointed at him. “You said ass!” She declared, like he didn’t realise what he’d said.

“I'm not allowed to say that.” Georgia muttered.

“You didn’t say it, I did. Now go tell her. But girls?” He added as they began to walk away. “It doesn’t matter who you want to kiss, boys, girls or neither, all that matters is that you want to, and they want to as well.” He gave them a nod and a gentle smile. “Okay, go!”

Virgil stood up, watching them go, grinning to himself as he walked back to Roman, with their drinks in hand. He handed one to the shorter boy, who slipped his hand around Virgil's waist. “What was that all about?” He asked, as they surveyed the hall, giving the polite wave of a smile when people glanced in their direction.

“They’re Patton's cousin’s kids- I'm just gonna call them my nieces. They asked me why I was kissing you. If they ask, you’re a Prince, I'm also a prince because we’re dating, and we aren’t wearing crowns because it isn’t our wedding.”

Roman chuckled, rolling his eyes as he took a sip of his drink. “Do you expect me to wear a crown at our wedding?” He asked, his tone calm.

“It would be fitting, is this your proposal?” Virgil replied, trying to act like he wasn’t blushing, nor nervous.

“I _did_ give you a promise ring.”

“So, we’re engaged?” Virgil asked, grinning as Roman laughed.

“Sure.”

Virgil watched the scene play out in front of his eyes like a cartoon, as on the opposite side of the hall Stevie tugged on Chelsea’s dress and the woman knelt down, Stevie then whispered in her ear, and Chelsea’s expression changed from amused to outraged.

“Oh, Chelsea looks offended, guess they told her.” Virgil commented, as Chelsea sent Stevie off to play with Georgia, before making her way over.

“Told her what?”

Virgil smirked. “To get her head out of her ass.”

“Virgil!” Roman replied in shock, hitting his arm and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Chelsea, pleasure to see you again, I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” He greeted her amiably and calmly, smiling in his fake goody-two-shoes way that Roman had seen him use on practically every teacher that taught him. And it always worked.

She pointed a finger at him, her fake nail stabbing into his chest as she looked up at him with a furious expression. “Listen you little asshole, I don’t care if you’re Patton’s son, or the best man. The only reason Patton wanted you is because he’s too careless to look after a proper kid.”

“Whoah! This is out of the blue, I'm hurt, Chelsea. Is everything alright?” Virgil asked, and Roman would give him credit, he was quite convincing.

“You know what you did, corrupting my children, the nerve you have, I thought I’d only have to deal with two of your kind, not four.”

Roman scowled, and Virgil furrowed his brow, feigning confusion. “Pardon? Your children came to tell me they liked my tie, I asked their names and told them I liked their dresses. I don’t understand how a compliment can be corrupt.”

Chelsea scoffed. “ _Prince Virgil said to get your head out of your ass_. Sound familiar?”

Roman this time, cut in, before Virgil could respond.

“Well that is his name. But children have a tendency to substitute fantasy characters with the names of those they know, if you were a decent parent you’d probably have noticed. Virgil is a beautiful and unique name, it isn’t a wonder they’d use it. Now, I highly suggest you go back to your husband, and drink some more wine, and if I ever hear you talk to Virgil or about Patton like that again, there will be consequences. Verbal assault and public misconduct are highly chargeable offenses. And I assure you, as a prince my lawyers will be better than yours.” Roman spoke quickly, his voice was intense and intimidating, he was playing a character. Chelsea looked afraid, threatened, and turned on her heel. Virgil offered a polite wave as she walked.

“What, a, mammoth, bitch.” Roman muttered, watching her go.

“Homophobic too. Who’d of thought?”

“At a gay wedding nonetheless.” Roman laughed, and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same, giddy off adrenaline.

“Stop we can’t be laughing, people are staring.”

Roman pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “No, they aren’t.” He mumbled, his lips just grazing Virgil’s skin as he spoke.

“A few are. Look, Logan’s talking to his colleagues and Patton’s feeling awkward, in a minute Logan’s gonna notice, and make an excuse. They haven’t talked to us yet, so that’ll come next.” Virgil replied watching them as he spoke. Patton was offering polite laughs, blindly grabbing for Logan’s han like he did when he was nervous. “I know them well enough by now.”

“Alright calm down Mr. Holmes.” Roman rolled his eyes and Virgil shoved him over. “You know you love me.”

“I think you’re drunk of wedding hype.”

“Love is in the air.” Roman sang, caressing Virgil’s cheek dramatically.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Everything about this is ridiculous. But try to tell me you’d change it?”

Virgil hummed in response, pulling Roman to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Not for the world.”


	27. Epilogue

Life after the wedding, was… Well it was life.

To be more accurate, it was life after the honeymoon.

Patton and Logan took to Germany and France for a week. Germany was Patton’s idea for Logan, knowing he’d adore going to the history memorials, World War Two was his favourite topic to teach. France was Logan’s idea for Patton, considering there wasn’t much romance to be had when getting a tour of a death exhibit in a museum.

The did the cheesy things, kissing under the Eiffel Tower, and taking photos everywhere they possibly could. Those memories now held forever in a photo album placed on the mantelpiece.

Virgil spent that week, hopping back and forth from Joan and Talyn’s, to Roman’s and back again.

Life after that. Went back to normal.

They had their up’s and downs, their disagreements, arguments, the slamming of doors, and the tearful apologies hours later when guilt and remorse caught up.

But that was what being a family was. They always made it through in the end. Happier and stronger than before.

Virgil went through his phase of teenage rebellion, generally supported by Joan, generally not supported by Patton or Logan, but it wouldn’t have been a rebellion otherwise.

He dyed his hair, stretched his ears, pierced his lip. In the end they came around and gave in to liking this style that Virgil adapted. A style that cleared up a few years later, and became less dark and brooding, but still just as eccentric.

Virgil made it through his GCSEs with flying colours, eight A*’s, an A and a B. After he did his A-Levels he moved on to studying law at university.

He learned to cope and took medication for what was finally diagnosed to him as chronic anxiety disorder. It allowed him to panic like a normal person and got rid of that ever-present feeling of unease.

He’s a lawyer now. Helping those in situations just like he was, those who can’t fight for themselves, those who have been treated unjustly. Because he got a taste of what justice felt like as a teenager. He needed to dish out that feeling to other people. He’s been practicing for two years now, and still hasn’t lost a case.

He lives in a city outside of Lewisburg, not far away enough that he can’t visit his parents whenever he chooses. He lives with his boyfriend, Roman, still dating from high-school sweethearts. Not counting the break they took in university, when Virgil lost his mind.

Roman is a director, writer and actor, making a name for himself in the world of film. The feeling of joy that exploded in his chest every time he saw his name on a theatre brochure seemed to drown out the numbness that used to consume his every thought. That numbness that had been defined as mild-depression, silenced with medication when he chose to take it.

He no longer has that empty whole in his chest, the missing piece in his heard he was convinced was for his parents. Because he had a family now, Patton and Logan treated him like just as much of a son as Virgil was.

He was happier now.

They have date night every Wednesday, and one of those Wednesdays in the near future, Roman is going to get down on one knee and ask Virgil to marry him. He just hasn’t found the right ring yet.

Patton and Logan still live in their house in Lewisburg. It looks exactly the same as when Virgil was a teenager, only with more photos.

Virgil still visits every Thursday, to play games and eat pizza. Its nice.

Carbon left the picture a few years ago. If he’s honest with himself, Virgil would tell you that it was the worst day of his life. He could still remember crying into her fur, petting her gently as she was put to sleep. He’s since refused to get another dog, unable to shake the feeling that he’d be replacing her. She was his best friend after all. Little does he know that Joan is going to get him a cat for his next birthday. Despite adoring Carbon with every fibre of his being, it was no secret that Virgil was a cat-person.

Sometimes Virgil wakes during the night, but never from nightmares anymore. He likes to think those demons were put to rest a long time ago.

And on those nights when he wakes, he stares at Roman, he stares at the ceiling, and he thanks his lucky stars for all the events that led him here.

Because he can’t believe he’s made it here.

When he was a kid, he didn’t think he’d make it until twenty. The future seemed to be taunting him, the present was unsafe and unnerving, and the past was unsure and clouded.

Now however, the future looked brighter than it ever had before, the present was calm and safe and warm, and the past had since been solved.

He’s so glad. He’s so grateful.

Because waking up next to the man he loves every day, listening to his dad’s words of encouragement before each new case, jamming out to old music in the kitchen with Joan, taking his ‘nieces’ to the ice-rink with Roman.

All of it was so much better than the life on the streets he’d been damned to ten years ago.

He was so thankful for that day, when Patton met him on the streets. When he was first told the difference between have and want, and every day after that when he learned it over, repeatedly. When Patton pulled him off the ground, literally, metaphorically, and showed him the first amount of compassion he’d ever been given. When he kept coming back, just because he wanted to.

And every moment that led up to that point, the sleepless nights on the cold, hard ground, the nervous walks through the back-alleys, the fights during the nights when people tried to steal his stuff.

All of it was worth it.

Because his life now, all of it was so much better, than shaking cold in the night, listening to nothing but his own anxious thoughts, footsteps and car engines.


	28. Authors Note

Hi! 

So, I'm Fawkes (no that's not my real name), I'm a teenager from Northern Ireland, and the dude behind that gay shit you tolerated for twenty seven chapters

Nice to meet you!

So that’s it, the end of Footsteps and Car Engines, a book that I’ve worked so hard on. Also a book that had a misspelled title for a while, I don’t know how that happened.

I wont be writing a sequel, it was a pretty book ended story (pun definitely intended) and there isn’t anything that could merit a sequel without it being repetitive. Though if anyone would like to write an add on, using my variations of the characters, go for it, just credit me I guess? I don’t really care.

Obviously the story needs some editing, as I figured out where I wanted the story to go, and how I wanted the characters to develop the more I progressed. 

But to clear up a few issues now (all of which I will try and clarify clearer when I edit the book)

 

  * At the beginning of the book, Virgil is fourteen.



He said he was sixteen in order to seem like less of a target. From his experience with the Nortons and Jesse, he learned that age is power, so making himself seem older than he actually is was his way of seeming less vulnerable.

 

  * Thomas is ten years older than Virgil.



I didn’t initially plan to have him in this story. I had Thomas down as one of the names for Virgil’s foster siblings without even realising. Then decided to roll with it. Virgil was seven when he first became part of the Norton’s ‘family’, therefore Thomas would’ve been seventeen, and still under their custody but old enough to do his own thing.

 

  * I will admit to possibly over doing Logan's character, as far as his anger issues go.



It may have just been a result of reverse favouritism (yes Logan is my favourite side) but I wanted him to have a good character arc. As somebody who has dealt with anger issues his whole life, I wanted to portray that pent-up aggression that just sort of builds up. And when you find that one person who will take your bullshit, you give it to them. Though in editing (which might only happen in the summer, school is bullshit), I will try to tone it down a little.

 

Also, I wanted to talk/ask about smut for a second. I didn’t write smut into the story because I didn’t think it would fit with the overall flow. The only time I could’ve integrated it in, was after Logan and Patton first got together. But if I were to do like, bonus smut chapters, would anybody be down for that? Because I'm gay as fuck and like writing it (no shame) but I don’t wanna waste my time on it if nobody would be interested.

It would be the proposal night, or wedding night for Logality. And it would be Virgil's 18th birthday for Prinxiety.

Let me know what you think on that matter.

 

But anyway.

Thank you all so much for your kind comments, your kudos, and just taking your time to read my work. Its been such an enjoyable experience to write this book. I love this fandom, and all its positivity, and constructive criticism. And I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did.

Until the next story.

 

\- A. Mc


	29. Bonus Smut Chapter No. 1 - Logality Proposal Night

Patton and Logan stumbled giddily into their house, Patton locking the door and Logan throwing his jacket onto the coat hook. They’d been out to dinner the moment Patton got out of work, the owner knew Patton, and noticed the ring on his finger, they got champagne on the house.

Before they could make it further than the kitchen, Logan pinned Patton against the wall in a kiss, undoing some of his shirt buttons. The shorter man giggled as Logan’s mouth found his neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin certain to leave a mark.

They never kissed like this, this was heated, this was frantic, this was desperate. Not like the calculated kisses he knew Logan to give.

This was more. Logan wanted more. The proposal was the first indication. And if he wanted more, Patton was going to give it to him.

“No, this isn’t going to work.” Patton spoke with a giggle hidden in his voice, and Logan faltered, Patton smirked, grabbing his arms and flipping them so Logan’s back was to the wall, his arms above his head held down by Patton. “Better.” He offered a smile and Logan watched, stunned as Patton took over, his eyes darkening with arousal. The ring on Patton’s finger was digging in to Logan's wrist as he held it, but Logan didn’t care.

He didn’t care about anything, because Patton was kissing down his jaw, and his hips jerked involuntarily as the baker’s hand brushed his waist, and he grinned against Logan’s skin. “Eager are we?”

Logan’s cock twitched in his boxers.

“Per-“ Logan choked, tilting his head back as Patton cupped his semi through his trousers. “Perhaps.” He breathed, choking back a moan as the baker palmed him through the fabric, meeting their lips again.

Patton pulled away and held him there for a moment, his hand on Logan's hardening cock, constricted by the fabric, breathing quickly and desperate for more. His eyes were just as dark and dangerous as they’d always been, but his pupils were blown as he stared at Patton. Patton decided he liked Logan like this.

He managed to get Logan's top button undone and moved his mouth where it was easier to reach, at the sensitive part of his neck just below Logan’s Adam’s-apple. He kept his hand where it was, still moving.

“What-“ Logan struggled to speak, overridden by the sensation. Patton's hand against his cock, Patton’s mouth against his neck, warm and wet. He couldn’t breathe.

“I’m going to mark you. I’m going to bruise your neck where everyone can see. Just like my ring. So they know you’re mine.” His voice was deep and Logan was so far gone all he could do was choke out a strangled moan in response

“Tell me what you want, Logan.” Patton asked, his voice deep in the teacher’s ear, his hand slowing against Logan's crotch.

“You- I want you. I-I don’t care how. I want more.” Logan stammered, his voice was breathless, and his eyes were shut, as Patton quickened his pace once again. He was struggling to think, that was new.

“Considering I'm not prepped, and neither are you, my hand will have to do. Do you want that?” Patton asked, his fingers trailing along the waist of Logan’s pants.

“Y-Yes.”

“What’s the word?

“Please, Patton.”

Patton smiled, starting on Logan’s belt. It wasn’t often he could take control, Logan always knew what exactly to do. But here, in intimacy, he was inexperienced and needy. Patton was impressed that the palming hadn’t finished him, considering this was the furthest Logan had ever been with anyone.

It didn’t take long for Logan's trousers and boxers to be at his knees, his cock hard and flushed and leaking as Patton spit in his hand and took it gently.

Logan flinched at the contact, restricting a whine in his throat. Patton halted his actions. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked, tilting Logan’s head so their eyes met again. He was very aware of the alcohol flowing through both their systems, he needed to know, because despite the desire in clouding his thoughts, he wouldn’t make Logan do anything he wasn’t sure of.

But Logan answered his question the moment their eyes met, his expression that of a man who’d been given a taste of the most delicious food imaginable, and was, yearning, _begging_ , for more. “Please.” He asked with bated breath.

Patton smiled, he was in control now.

He moved his hand, slowly first, just to test the waters. Logan sucked in a breath, holding it in an attempt to silence himself.

“None of that, I want to hear you.” Patton ordered. “If I wanted you quiet, you’d have something in your mouth.”

A choked moan fell from Logan's lips, he struggled against the grip that was keeping his arms above his head, Patton let them go, and Logan wrapped his arms rigid around Patton’s neck, pressing his head in his own upper arm, as quickening breaths and soft, frantic moans fell from his lips.

He could feel his heart in his head, he could feel his entire body flush, he could feel a strange yet familiar sense of warmth build in his stomach.

Suddenly his only thought process was Patton’s hand, and its warmth, and slick over his cock.

He jerked his hips into Patton’s touch.

“You’re so pretty like this, moaning for me, fucking my hand like its all you’re worth.” Patton spoke, he spoke words that Logan never imagined would come from his mouth, but he couldn’t get enough of it.  “You’re practically gagging for it, desperate for it.”

And suddenly the pressure grew too much, his thoughts narrowed down to the feeling, and Patton.

“Patton- I- Fuck I can’t-“ Logan’s hips stuttered, and his arms went slack, a guttural moan forced itself out, as he spurted ribbons of white onto Patton's hand. “I can’t- I can’t think like that.” He spoke breathlessly, letting his arms drop to his side, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath, and collect his mind.

He couldn’t believe he’d come undone. That Patton had undone him. That he’d let it happen.

But at the same time, he loved it.

“You were vocal enough.” Patton replied, letting go of Logan’s cock, grabbing a piece of kitchen roll from the counter, wiping his hand. “It felt good though didn’t it?” Patton replied with a smirk, as Logan pulled his boxers and pants up, buckling his belt with shaky fingers. He could feel his whole body flushed underneath his shirt.

“Can I-“ Logan paused, his hands finding Patton's waist. “Can I reciprocate?” He asked, feeling a blush rise to his face as Patton looked at him again.

“You don’t have to Logan. Not if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, let me, please Patton.” Logan was whining now, and Patton smirked, he never thought he’d see the day when Logan Sanders was begging. “I’ll use my mouth, I know you’d like that, I can tell.” He was too eager to even explain his deductions.

Patton hummed in amusement, pressing a kiss to Logan's cheek as he closed the gap between their chests. “I'm sure you can. But if we’re going to do that, we should take it somewhere more comfortable, I don’t want your knees to hurt.”

He ended up in Logan’s armchair, head dropped back, one hand covering his eyes, the other gripping the arm of the chair. He was at Logan’s will for the moment.

Logan was on his knees in front of him, kneeling on a pillow, he’d pulled Patton’s pants to his knees, his boxers the same.

Patton was bigger than he’d expected, but then he supposed that the baker did have the gait of a taller man. It fit nicely in his hand, however, as he stroked it gently, getting a feel for how Patton liked these things to be done.

But he’d promised a blowjob.

He licked a stripe up the underside of Patton’s cock, taking the head of it into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the slit, he resisted the urge to smile as he heard Patton gasp. Slowly he pushed down, taking as much of him in his mouth as he could, until he felt the head hit the back of his throat.

He used his hand to cover the parts his mouth couldn’t reach, finding a rhythm quickly, moving his head up and down, taking Patton’s soft moans as encouragement and quickening his pace.

He found himself zoning out in the rhythm until Patton's hand found his head, nimble fingers fisting through his hair, and he moaned around his cock as he was forced down, almost gagging with the pressure.

And he took it, determined to make Patton feel good, to give him the same feeling, to make him come undone. His other hand was rubbing circles into he inside of Patton’s thigh, and he drew his mouth up so just the tip was in his mouth, and he swirled his tongue.

“Jesus that feels so good Lo’.” Patton breathed stroking through Logan’s hair, Logan looked up to see Patton leant back, face red, jaw slacked with shaky breaths escaping.

He pulled his mouth away with a satisfying pop, and used his hands for the rest, one held Patton’s ballocks, the other working furiously at his cock, stroking in a fashion that he would have never used on himself, but Patton couldn’t get enough of it, gasping with every slick caress of Logan’s hand.

“God, Logan- Fuck- I’m gonna-“ He cut himself off with a choked breath as he came, and Logan’s hand kept moving, the spurts of white caught neatly in his shirttails.

The teacher pushed himself up, a hand resting on Patton's chest as the other tilted his head down, meeting their lips. Patton’s mouth was warm against his, the gentle slide of his tongue sending shivers down his spine.

The shorter man pulled away, resting his forehead against Logan’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Right, I think a shower is in order, care to join me?” Patton replied, as Logan stood up away from him.

He laughed as the teachers face flushed red at the thought, despite having Patton’s dick in his mouth moments ago.


End file.
